


The Past Will Find You

by Feeeshy



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alcohol, Amaurot (Final Fantasy XIV), Amaurotine Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Arranged Marriage, Blow Jobs, Cheating, Drinking to Cope, Dubious Consent, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Garleans (Final Fantasy XIV), Garlemald (Final Fantasy XIV), Legionarius Solus Galvus, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Secret Relationship, Viera Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:07:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 35,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24182608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feeeshy/pseuds/Feeeshy
Summary: Vhel, a spirited Viera of only ninety summers, The Warrior of Light, is regarded as a hero the realm over, but none would guess she holds a dark secret buried deep in her past.Vhel, a young Viera of only twenty summers, has lived her entire life on the Skatay Mountains. She never intended to leave her ancestral home, but a fateful meeting with a young Garlean soldier named Solus Galvus changed everything.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Original Character(s), Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 75
Kudos: 269
Collections: Final Fantasy XIV - Emet-Selch x WoL Recommendations





	1. Guided Fates

**Author's Note:**

> Got this idea when I learned that the average Viera lifespan is ~240 years

That the Crystarium looked perfectly normal and uneventful filled Vhel with immeasurable relief. Things had gotten chaotic in Il Mheg and the worry that it had spilled over into Lakeland hounded her the whole way back. Fortunately, even the sky that greeted them was the image of serenity—a clear night filled with glittering stars and a bright, full moon.

“You certainly took your time. I had half resolved to complete the task myself,” someone called out to the group with a tired voice.

A voice that filled the Warrior of Light with cold, visceral _fear._

By the gods, _she knew that voice._ And by all rights, it’s owner should be long _dead_ and _gone_ and _on the Source for gods' sake._

Summoning all of her strength, she turned around. She needed to see for herself, needed to see if her darkest secret had somehow found his accursed way across the shards to haunt her _even here._

“And you are?” Alisaie asked warily.

But Vhel already knew this ghost of a man standing before them, and the guilt of it nearly broke her.

***

_Year 1507 of the Sixth Astral Era, The Northernmost Peaks of the Skatay Mountain Range_

The strangers in heavy metal armor glittered amongst the snow in the distance. Vhel had been watching them slowly trek along for some time now from her perch in the trees. It wasn’t often that her part of the mountain got visitors.

Murmurings among the other Veena clans had begun to spring up recently of men in metal armor visiting the villages along the range. The reason for these visits, Vhel could never get a straight answer from her sisters. Some claimed it was a vain attempt to control the small mountain settlements, others said it was to try and recruit the powerful Viera hunters into their foreign army.

No matter the cause, they were always spoken of as foolish men who were swiftly dealt with by the sentries when peaceful attempts to send them away did not work.

The taller of the two men came to an abrupt stop in the snowfield and, to Vhel’s immense disbelief, suddenly looked pointedly in her direction. She would almost think that the man could see her, but her pure white hair and dull brown leather clothing made her practically invisible amid the snow and trees. Nothing should be able to spot her, not even the keenest-eyed of game animals. 

But still, the man held his gaze steadfast for several moments before motioning to his companion, and they both changed course to head straight for the grove of trees she was sitting in.

Her theory that maybe he had merely spotted something in the undergrowth fell apart when the man came to stand nearly under the branch she was sitting on.

“Are you of the Veena clan that reside in these parts?” He called up to her. Although his voice was distorted by the helmet he wore, she could tell by his breathlessness that the mountain hike was taking its toll on his stamina; neither of their outfits looked the least bit like it was meant for such a climb, more battle ready than anything else.

“Perhaps I am,” she called down, leaning over the thick branch to peer down at them. “Perhaps I am not. What is it to you lot?”

He reached up and removed his helmet, running his hand through his sweat-slicked burgundy hair to try and sort it into something presentable. The white streak in his bangs refused to cooperate and flopped down in front of his forehead, framing his third eye. A Garlean, she mused, a truly rare sight this far up the mountain.

“I am Solus Galvus, of the Garlemald Republic army. Under the orders of Aulus Lemonius, I have come to speak with the leaders of your village.” Despite the fatigue, he spoke with a privileged air about him.

She had encountered a few of these high born men from various nations before on the lower hills. They sometimes fancied themselves rugged hunters and ventured out into the mountain wilds to find sport, but they never failed to underestimate the harsh, unpredictable weather of her home. Sometimes she stumbled upon them in time to escort them to safety, others she came upon much too late.

“You’ve stopped just short of my clan’s territory, stranger. Any further up and the guard will see a quick end for you and your friend if you do not turn back.”

Confused, the man cocked his head to one side.

“Are you not the guard, then?"

"If I were, you would already have an arrow trained on your head." She made a point of shifting her position to give the men a better view of the large bow strapped to her back. Just because she had yet to draw her weapon didn’t mean she wouldn’t hesitate to do so. "What business do your men have on the mountains?" 

"We’ve been sent here to scout for volunteers. The unrivaled archery prowess of the Viera has impressed my superiors, and they would like to add that skill to Garlemald’s forces.”

There was the mystery of the strange visitors to the villages solved. She had secretly hoped it would turn out to be something more interesting, more _enticing_. Instead, it was just idiotic. 

“So, you've been sent into Viera territory laughably unprepared in hopes of not only making it past the sentries alive, but then, somehow, convincing some of my sisters to leave their family homes to follow you?” She hummed in thought. “Quite the monumentally _foolish_ task you've been set to do. Mayhaps your superiors aren’t overly fond of you?”

The shorter of the two sputtered in an unseemly fashion. “Y-you will address Lord Galvus with the utmost respect when speaking to him!” He shouted up at her so loudly the birds flew from the nearby trees. 

She was stunned into silence. After how cordial she had been in not striking them down instantly when they approached, this _intruder_ had the gall to yell at her like she was a misbehaving child.

Their biceps, she decided. Their armor allowed some cloth to peak through the plates on their biceps. She could make it a clean warning shot, injured but not fatal, still able to walk away on their own—

 _“You speak out of turn, Matius,_ _"_ the taller one hissed harshly at the other, the pure venom in his voice sending the smaller man recoiling. Then, clearing his throat, he turned back to calmly address Vhel. “Please, excuse my companion and his abhorrent lack of decorum. He still acts as though my house standing has any bearing on field work.”

His golden eyes shone with sincerity, slightly tempering her anger, but it wasn’t enough. Curiosity satiated, she was done with these two.

Vhel got to her feet. The movement sent small bits of snow falling from the branch towards the men below.

“I have given you my warning.” She glanced back down at the taller man again, his golden eyes still watching her. "You may continue on if you wish, but you will soon find that I am by far the most amicable of my clan."

Without another thought, she turned and bounded away through the dense treetops, leaving the men to their fate.

***

_2 Weeks Later_

The low hanging sun painted the sky in streaks of orange and yellow as Vhel continued her pursuit. The stag’s tracks had taken her down lower on the mountain than what she would normally go, but the size of it’s prints promised a creature with a lot of meat on its bones. Hardly a catch to pass up just because of inconvenience.

She slid down the side of a hill. Here, the trees thinned out to barely more than sticks, so she had to stalk her prey on foot along the forest floor. At least this far down the peak the snow thinned considerably, making walking much easier than it would be higher up in the thicker snowdrift.

Sunbeams cut through the shadows around her as she kept up the pace. With each step, the tracks grew fresher and fresher. Excitement building, she could almost feel herself upon the animal now. It wouldn’t be much longer till she claimed her prize.

Turning at a bend, she found a surprising sight—a mess of kicked up snow and dirt and the hurried tracks of the beast sprinting off westward. Something must have spooked the creature something fierce to create this disarray, but she hadn’t sensed anything nearby—

A stick snapped in the distance, followed by a crunch of snow, then another. Footsteps, and much too heavy and clumsy to be anything other than man.

She silently cursed herself. She must have been too absorbed in tracking to notice she had an unwelcome hunting partner.

Standing straight, she listened for the direction of the sound. Another faint snap of a twig and she was off, flitting through the trees as silent as a shadow. With any luck, she could convince this person that they ventured too close to Veena territory and to turn back—this hunt was hers and she had no intention of sharing.

It didn’t take long to find him. The man was leaning against a tree, facing away from her. His dark, heavy coat was spotted in dustings of snow fallen from the trees. Strapped along his back, a metal barrel caught the setting sunlight.

A rifle. It was a good thing she found this man in time. If he had shot that thing off, then all the game for malms would flee and she would have nothing to show for her efforts. 

Drawing her bow low, she approached cautiously.

“Hello there, stranger,” she called to him. “Out on a hunt?”

The man turned around, and familiar golden eyes met hers.

“You could say that.”

The air around them stilled. He sounded so calm, but she could hardly believe it. Despite the vastness of the mountain, she had run into this stranger twice in the span of a few weeks. 

“...Are you—Are you the Garlean from the other day?” 

The man smiled with a warmth that drove away the chill of the evening. He moved off his spot on the tree to face her fully, the white streak in his hair once again laying defiantly out of place. Without his heavy armor, he looked much younger with his straight-backed military posture giving way to a more relaxed stance. 

He extended a hand towards her.

“Solus Galvus, but just Solus is fine.”

She looked at the offered hand a moment, sizing him up, before putting her bow away.

“Vhel Isshu,” she introduced herself as she shook his hand. “Just ‘Solus’, hm? Are you sure your friend won’t come out and scold me for not addressing you as _Lord Galvus?”_ She still held some annoyance at that.

He stuck up a finger at her.

"Ah, ah. I will stop you right there. I am not _friends_ with that brute. We are merely co-workers."

“You are both Garlean soldiers, I presume?”

He hummed in confirmation.

“I’ve but recently been deployed to the camp down the way,” he nodded towards the foothills of the mountain. She remembered hearing of the Garleans building something or other down there in the last year. “Would you like to come see it?”

Her ears stood up at the sudden, unexpected invitation. She had only ventured off the mountain a handful of times, but it was something she was always keen to do when the opportunity presented itself.

But then she remembered what he had told her at their first meeting. Taking a step back, she narrowed her eyes at him.

“If this is some tactic to get a Viera to join your—”

“No, no,” he interrupted hastily, earnestly waving his hands as if to dismiss her concerns. “I am off duty. I just wished to show you my thanks for saving me. ” 

She looked at him, puzzled.

“Saving you?”

He nodded.

“Were it not for you, Matius and I would have surely walked to our demise at the arrows of your clan’s archers. Especially Matius, with his lack of tact.” He put his hands into the pockets of his coat, shivering as a cold wind cut through. “It'll be getting dark before soon, but I would say the camp is more lovely in the moonlight than it is in the sunlight...” A hopeful twist laced through his voice.

Something pulled at her. A pure curiosity, perhaps, of finding out more of this stranger, of getting a glimpse into another nation’s culture so far removed from her own familiar traditions.

He looked at her expectantly, brows raised and wide golden eyes studying her as he waited for her response. 

“So bold, yet not unkind," she remarked, crossing her arms. "I see now why they might send you to negotiate with Viera.”

“I have an _in_ with the dining hall’s head chef.” He cocked a brow at her and mischief turned up the corner of his mouth. “It’s stew night tonight, and I can get us _seconds."_ He spoke like he meant to impress.

She huffed a laugh, and his golden eyes lit up at the sound of it.

“Now how could I pass that up. Alright, Solus,” she conceded with a smile, “lead the way. But know that I will not hesitate to draw my bow upon your co-worker if he crosses me again.”

“And I would be glad to look the other way if you did.”

She laughed at that in the hardy way that reached her eyes. With a new excited air about him, Solus started down the mountain slope, Vhel falling in step beside him.

As they started to pick their way through the woods, she noticed something strange about the snow around them. Something her hunter mind wouldn’t stop nagging her about.

“Is this the way you came?” she asked before they got too far.

“I suppose. Why?”

As her new companion watched on, she took a moment to more thoroughly examine the undisturbed snow around them, confirming her peculiar observation.

“That's odd," she mused. "There are no footprints leading up here, only ours near where I found you.”

Glancing over at him, she caught the sight of what could almost be panic in his eyes before it was quickly hidden away behind a weary look.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he shrugged as he turned and continued on. “I walked up here, just as any would.”

Vhel hummed in thought, but let the topic drop. There would be time to find out about his oddities later.


	2. Castrum Hiberna

Solus hadn’t lied, Vhel would give him that. The camp was indeed a lovely sight at night.

Built on top of a hill, the neatly arranged collection of stone and wood buildings could almost pass for any other village in the mountains, if not for the imposing stockade surrounding it and the eyesore of a metal building at its center. The hazy lights from the two watch towers at either end gave the whole place a soft glow, with smaller, warm dots of light scattered throughout. 

“I would not imagine a military camp to look so...cozy,” she commented as they made their way down the gentle slope of a foothill. The area around the base had been almost entirely cleared of lumber, leaving a snowfield in all directions that kept a record of their path in its powder.

“You would be sorely disappointed if you ever saw Garlemald,” he mumbled under his breath, but then elaborated when she tilted her head at him, “Normally, a castrum would be constructed with more metal and steel than anything else, but with being so far from the motherland, we had to make due with what was available here.”

“Suppose you all are quite far from home, hm?”

“Unimaginably so.” 

As they drew closer to the nearest gate, the heavy-set armored guard leaning against the wall shifted, turning to watch the duo approach. Vhel felt Solus stiffen next to her, a curse under his breath.

“Galvus!" a cheerful voice suddenly boomed from the guard as he left his post to greet them, stopping just as the light from the entrance lamps started to lose their reach.

"Axius," Solus nodded curtly as they stopped before the guard. His whole body went rigid, like a cornered animal ready to strike.

"Just a ray of sunshine in the night, you are!" Laughing at his own quip, the guard turned to Vhel. "And look at that! I was hoping you would have brought back a deer from your hunt, but a hare will do just fine!” 

In the span of a heartbeat, Solus was upon the man, using his imposing height to loom over him.

“She is my guest, and she shall be treated as such,” he snapped, voice cold as the night and laced with subtle threat.

But the guard did not cower as easily as the shorter one had before.

 _“Ohhoho,_ you _devil,”_ he chortled, voice so filled with impish delight it was evident even through the helmet’s distortion. Easily stepping out of Solus’s shadow, he approached the stunned Vhel with an outstretched hand. “The name’s Faustus Axius. Welcome to Castrum Hiberna.”

She crossed her arms, eyes narrowing and blood running hot at the audacity of this man. _A hare,_ indeed, and now he means for a cordial handshake? She would be glad to test the sturdiness of his armor with her arrows.

Before she could draw her bow, Solus came rushing up. “I said, she is _my_ _guest—_ ” he had to push the man’s arm down to get him to relent on the unreciprocated handshake “—and I will not have you offending her before she even steps a foot on the base!”

The man let out a full bellied laugh at Solus’s fretting before allowing himself to be nudged out of the way, giving Vhel room to pass.

“Come, let us be on our way,” he spoke flatly as he turned back towards her.

A tense moment passed as she stood with feet planted. To come all the way down the mountain only to be greeted in such a _distasteful_ way, her Veena pride demanded that she make this man regret his words most dearly before taking her leave _—_

_"Please."_

A quiet, earnest plea from Solus cut into her ire. His now disarrayed hair fell over his wide, worried eyes as they silently begged her to overlook this man’s transgression, just this once. And despite herself, she found her wrath relenting. If only to keep this strange Garlean's company for a little longer, she would stay her anger. He intrigued her, and that was enough, for now, to keep her weapon holstered.

She sighed. The relief on Solus’s face as she walked past and towards the base without raising her bow was immediate, but before he could follow behind, the guard clapped a heavy hand onto his shoulder. 

“I’ll be sure to let your bunkmates know to give you some _privacy_ tonight,” he whispered into his ear loud enough for Vhel to hear. He howled with laughter as Solus shot him a furious look that would have withered weaker men.

Uncomfortable silence hung between them as they entered the camp. They walked along what looked to be a wide main street, with the snow trampled down and a few street lamps dotting along its path. It led up towards the large metal building at the center of the complex Vhel had seen before. Long, low stone buildings sat off to the sides of the street, creating small alleys between them. Only a few people were out in the growing cold of the night.

Solus cleared his throat, stopping under one of the street lamps and running a hand through his hair, attempting to sort it back into place.

“Please, just ignore him,” he said quietly, bringing his hand down to rub his tired eyes. The dim light caught on the buttons to his coat’s cuff. “But, if you’re uncomfortable, I could show you to the other gate, one without _him_.”

She tilted her head.

“Another gate?”

“If you wish to leave, that is,” he clarified. “I had not accounted for Faustus being on guard, nor his most...unwelcome comments.”

He seemed genuinely mortified at the other soldier’s less than wholesome implications. And yet, rough welcome notwithstanding, she had already decided to see where this night led.

“You flatter yourself.” She kicked at the dirtied snow on the road. “If I wanted to be rid of this place, I would have already done so. Besides,” her voice turned lighter as she spoke, “what happened to turning a blind eye if I wanted to shoot one or two of your co-workers?”

"Unfortunately,” he sighed ruefully, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you can't shoot that one. He’s actually useful.” 

"How could such an awful man be useful?"

His long suffering sigh gave Vhel the distinct impression that he _also_ disliked such an awful man being useful.

"He has connections in the capital that I need. His family has ties with the Senate.” He looked into the distance as he explained, his words obviously carrying more weight than she could appreciate. Then, he straightened up, confidence returned.

“Well,” he smiled, a wane but warm thing, “if you’re still willing, then far be it from me to deny a dinner for my savior. Especially after enduring Faustus.”

He motioned for her to follow, and they started down a narrower side road, just wide enough for them to walk side by side. There were no windows along the stone walls here, denying Vhel the chance to be nosy and peek inside.

"So, why did your people choose to build out here?” she wondered aloud as she stepped over some rubble that had been left in the path. “The armor I saw you in before would suggest you are entirely out of your element for mountain climbs.”

"Reconnaissance, chiefly,” he answered easily. “Then, recruiting Viera archers, after my superiors saw how easily your guards dealt with the more persistent of our scouts.”

She turned to him, surprise clear on her face.

“So, my people laid waste to some of your men,” she started slowly, “and your people chose recruitment over retaliation?” Surely, she must have misunderstood.

He gave a lazy, lopsided shrug.

“Martial prowess is valued very highly among Garleans,” was his nonchalant answer, and he left it at that. They turned at the end of the alley and started towards the back of a large square building further in the camp. On the back wall was a heavy metal door with a single lamp lit next to it. A mess of broken wood crates and emptied sacks littered the area.

Solus picked his way through this scattering of debris and knocked at the door.

No answer.

“Nonus, I know you’re in there,” he called out, his knocking turning into banging.

Another silent moment passed before Vhel heard shuffling behind the door and the heavy lock disengaging. As it creaked open, a stream light from inside cut through through the night and laid a golden path on the snow. A rough looking Garlean peeked his head through the opening.

“I’ve come to make good on our arrangement,” Solus smirked at the ragged looking man. “I trust you’ll be accommodating?”

“Shh!” he hushed in a gruff voice, “Not so loud.” The man stepped out from the building and closed the door behind him, leaning his impressive frame against it. This was the first Garlean Vhel had seen that was actually of equal height to her and Solus.

The man casted a suspicious eye between the two, running a hand over the stubble growing on his chin.

“Well?” Solus prompted.

“Do I have a choice?” 

“No.”

“...Alright,” he said with no small amount of hesitation, then pointed to Vhel. “She has to stay out here, though.”

“I’ll be right back,” Solus nodded to Vhel before slipping inside the building after the other man. The heavy door closed behind them, leaving Vhel alone in the lone lamp light. She crossed her arms and waited. From the hearty smells emanating from inside, she figured this must be the dining hall. 

After a few minutes, the door opened again and Solus came out carrying a crate with quite the assortment of foodstuffs. Carrots, potatoes, onions, even what seemed to be a few small bottles of spices, just from what Vhel could see. On top sat a large cut of smoke cured meat.

“That’s more than what we agreed upon…” Vhel didn’t see the other man this time, only hearing his gravelly voice from within the building. “But, we’re square now, right, Galvus?”

“Yes, yes,” Solus assured the man offhandedly as he looked through the box, double checking its contents. “I will forget all about your _mishap.”_

The door stayed open a moment longer as the other man considered Solus’s words before it was pulled closed with a force that knocked snow from the roof. The lock slid heavily back into place.

“Well, have everything we need, then,” Solus said, apparently satisfied with his haul. “Let’s be off.”

She eyed him as they continued along the length of the building, a lighter air to his step than before. Something about that whole exchange felt...off.

“Was that the head chef you referred to before?" Vhel ventured to ask.

“Nonus Hosidius, the finest cook in the camp. Personally appointed by Aulus Lemonius himself.”

“Then, forgive me if I am mistaken,” Vhel started warily, “but it would almost seem that an ‘in with the head chef’ actually means you have some sort of blackmail on the poor man.”

Solus barked out a laugh, a cruel sounding thing that caught Vhel off guard.

“I caught him rummaging through the Pilus Prior’s desk while she was out of her office last week. In exchange for my silence on the matter, I asked for extra rations.”

She blinked. She had not expected him to come clean so easily, but the way he proclaimed it would suggest he was proud of his dubious feat. He seemed to sense her unease at his candidness, softening his expression back to its normal weary-eyed look.

“Oh, come now, it hardly warrants such concern,” he coaxed gently. “No one will notice a few missing supplies, and I will keep good on my word to not press him further.”

Vhel hummed in thought as their footsteps crunched along in the snow. Blackmail was not, exactly, her preferred way to get things done. But this was his home, his people, and their inner politics did not concern her. Besides, overall, it seemed a harmless enough exchange, if a bit underhanded. 

“So, what are we to do with your ill begotten bounty?" She asked, deciding against pressing the matter further. "I take it we are not eating in the dining hall?”

"I fear you would run out of arrows before our meal was done,” he murmured darkly. “No, I have something much better in mind.”

From behind the dining hall, they turned onto what appeared to be another main road. Ahead, the large metal building she saw earlier loomed closer.

“That,” he said, nodding to it, “is the praetorium. It’s the headquarters of the camp, and where our leader has his private quarters on the upper floors. And, fortunately, he is out for a few days on business back in the capital.”

He looked at her expectantly, but Vhel only tilted her head in question.

“What does that have to do with us?”

“You see," he drummed his fingers against the crate, "his room is quite a bit nicer and more spacious than anything the barracks have to offer, not to mention he has his own private kitchen...” He gently shook the crate with the assortment of ingredients.

She blinked, slowly. She could hardly believe what he was implying. There must, now, surely, be a misunderstanding on her part.

And yet, the way he looked at her so sincerely...

“You mean to borrow his room?” she asked slowly, each word said carefully so there would be no confusion. “Your leader’s own private room?” 

“He has a balcony with a very nice view,” he offered hopefully, as if that alone could win her over to the idea.

“Now,” he continued, “guests are not typically allowed near the place. But,” she followed his gaze as it drifted to a nearby building, its shorter roof sitting very nearly under the large balcony on the uppermost floor, “I trust you can find your way up there?”

She eyed the distances between the buildings. The praetorium appeared to be about three stories tall, easily the biggest building she had seen on the mountain, with the smaller building sitting at about a floor shorter. If he was suggesting what she thought, and it was looking increasingly likely that was the case, it would be a trifling thing for her to leap her way up there. She had cleared larger gaps between cliff sides before.

But that did not lessen the gravity of his request.

“So, just to be clear,” she looked him pointedly in the eyes, “you would have me break into the headquarters of a military base? To use the commander’s private quarters?”

“That is the sum of it, yes,” he confirmed matter-of-factly, his golden eyes trained on her. “Being one of the smaller of the castra, our guard is fairly lax. You will find going in, or out, or anywhere you please, really, to pose very little of a challenge.”

“But what if we _do_ get caught?”

“You could probably easily evade any guard they send. I would suffer some sort of consequences, I suppose, but that’s neither here nor there.” He still spoke as though he had asked her about the weather, and not to commit what was surely some kind of crime.

She should walk away. That’s what the reasonable part of her mind was telling her to do, yelling at her to do. Tell him that he is insane for even suggesting something so reckless, so dangerous, for both of them, just for private kitchen privileges.

And yet, the idea of attempting to go undetected with such high stakes filled her veins with an excitement she only felt when her arrow was knocked in her bow, point trained with perfect precision on a charging target.

She shifted on her feet, sighing deeply and letting the cold smoke of her breath roll over her.

“I think I can manage to find a way in.”

His golden eyes lit up at her words, and she hated the way it made her heart skip.


	3. Hearth and Home

“Excellent. I will go through the front guard, and meet you up there,” he instructed, then turned away and started towards the front lights of the praetorium, leaving her to her own devices. Of all the ways for her night to go, sneaking around in a military base was certainly unexpected.

After making sure the street was clear save for Solus’s departing figure, Vhel walked off the main road and down one of the nearby offshoot alleys. Luckily, the bitter cold of the night kept most of the base’s residents indoors, and in no time she had already made her way up to the top of one of the single story buildings, the snow on its roof cushioning and muting her steps as she briskly strode down its length and jumped onto the two story building sitting under the balcony. Soon, the agile Viera was leaning against the cold steel wall of the praetorium, waiting by the locked balcony doors for her host to let her in.

A low _click_ echoed into the still night.

“I trust you had no trouble?” Solus asked as he opened the door, stepping out partially to look around.

“If we weren’t using it to our advantage, I’d be nearly concerned at how easy that was.”

With a satisfied smile, he beckoned her in, the pleasant warmth of the room enveloping her as she stepped in from the cold. A fire was already going in the large hearth at the other end of the room, casting dancing shadows on the adorned walls—banners, flags, even a few heads and horns of hunted beasts hung around her, nearly every wall a testament to a man who valued his trophies and conquest.

“While not exactly to _my_ sensibilities,” Solus commented, admiring the room alongside her, “but it is by far better than anything else this castrum has to offer. Now, please, make yourself comfortable.”

He motioned to the standing coat rack by the front door on the far wall, his coat already hung up amongst a group of others. Rolling up the sleeves to his button-down, he walked to the small kitchenette tucked away in a corner of the room, his crate of ingredients already perched atop the counter.

Setting her bow by the door, she noticed his rifle leaning against the wall nearby, the metal barrel catching the orange firelight. While she had seen a few of these Garlean firearms before, she had never gotten the chance to look at one up close. Curiosity taking over, she picked it up, finding it much heavier than she imagined. And very cold, unlike the warm wood of her bow that carried heat with it. Holding it by the handle, she ran a hand down the barrel, admiring the intricate designs of the metal’s embellishments.

“A fine example of Garlean ingenuity, that is.” Solus’s sudden comment caused her to jump in surprise, nearly dropping the thing, but caught it by its strap before it could clatter to the ground. “You can have it, if you like.” 

The sound of vegetables being chopped started up from his spot in the kitchen. She hefted the weapon in her hands again and trained its sights on one of the wall mounted trophies. Despite being weightier than her bow, it had a nice balance to it, a comfortable feel in her hands as she looked down the sights. While the noise may be detrimental on a hunt, she knew its firepower outmatched her bow, and not every creature on the mountain could be felled with arrows alone. 

“I would think your superiors would notice if a weapon of theirs disappeared.”

While still keeping his attention on his work, a hand came up and lazily waved away her concern.

“If you want it, it is yours. I can find another.”

She hummed in thought, placing the rifle back down against the wall. A tempting offer she may take him up on. 

Crossing the short distance into the kitchen, she sat back against the counter near him and watched him work. Some of the vegetables had already been cut and set aside, and he was now halfway though dicing the large cut of meat.

“I remember the bastard guard mentioning how you had been hunting. Is that a prize from a past outing?”

“Not to brag,” Solus said, getting a decisively smug air about him, “but I am one of the finest huntsmen in the camp. Very little escapes my eye when I'm out in the field.”

“Is that how you found me?” His knife stilled as he silently cocked a puzzled brow at her. “When we first met. I’ve been wondering how you spotted me from so far away, especially with how tucked into the trees I was.”

“Like I said, I’ve a very keen eye.“ He went back to cutting as a small smile grew on his lips. “Would you mind getting a fire going in the oven while I get this ready?”

She looked to the other side of her. A cast iron stove sat at the end of the kitchen, its deep black exterior almost hiding it in the shadows.

“Such a decadent room your leader has, to have both a stove _and_ fireplace,” she mused as she walked over to it. “Most Veena homes are built around a singular stove, for both heating and cooking.”

“Sounds a fair bit homelier than here.”

“It is.” She paused as she reached down to the oven door’s handle. “If it were possible, I’d ask you to come visit, see for yourself.” But her sisters would never allow an outsider into their home without just cause, and wanting to spend time with someone did not fall under that criteria.

She pulled the weighty door open with a metallic creak, only to be greeted with little more than charcoal dust sitting inside.

“Where is the firewood?” She asked, glancing around the kitchen.

“Where’s the…?” She pointed at the empty oven when he turned to her questioningly. Worry creased his brow.

“I used all that I could find for the fireplace. I thought there would already be some in there.” He set down his knife, and the two began rummaging around in the kitchen, opening and prodding into every cabinet and drawer.

“Well, this is rather inconvenient…” Solus mumbled to himself as he closed the last of the cupboard doors. He stood back, hand coming to his chin in thought. They hadn’t even turned up the smallest bit of kindling in their search.

“Why don’t you go check by the bed?” he asked after a moment. “Perhaps there could be some firewood stored over there.”

Doubtful but willing to try, Vhel walked over to near the balcony doors. What counted for the bedroom area was mostly taken up by a large four poster bed with wide wardrobes on either side and a large trunk sitting at its foot.

“I’m still not finding anything,” she called to him after she opened the chest, finding it filled with expensive looking blankets. “Perhaps your leader won’t mind if we use some of his linens instead?”

From behind, she heard a huff of laughter turn into a tired sigh, some grumbling, then, curiously, a faint _snap_. Closing the lid, she looked back to see a small fire steadily growing in the previously barren oven.

“I found some wood, how fortunate,” Solus stated flatly, promptly closing the oven door and going back to sorting out the ingredients on the counter. 

Now _that_ was an oddity she was ready to press, here and now where they had no where else to be.

Wandering back into the kitchen, Vhel resumed her spot sitting back against the counter next to him, watching him set about cutting the last of the ingredients to size.

“Garlean training must be no joke if you can start a fire that fast.” She studied him for any misgivings, but his tired golden eyes remained trained on the vegetables in front of him, just as hers were on him. Having already obliged his secrets once, she would get to get to the bottom of it now.

“I may be wrong, I have not had the pleasure of meeting many Garleans before, but I thought your kind incapable of using magic?”

“You would be correct, we cannot manipulate the aether in our bodies as the other races can,” he confirmed with an even voice. The rhythmic sound of chopping did not falter. “Though, I am hard pressed to see how that matters now.”

“This,” she motioned to the now heating stove, “and earlier, in the woods. You left no tracks, and I believe only those capable of aetheric manipulation can utilize teleportation magics.”

“You are simply mistaken,” his tone remained level as he scooped up the last of the diced vegetables in his hands and put them in a large bowl with the rest. “You heard it yourself from Faustus. I was out on a hunt when I found you.”

“Do not insult me,” mischief now played into her voice, full of confidence. “You may play the part of the skilled hunter _for now,_ but I have lived my whole life tracking animals through these woods. How else does one go after wild beasts without so much as snapping a twig in their wake?”

Not meeting her gaze and instead choosing to rummage through the lower cabinets, he pulled out a large heavy-bottomed pot and placed it on top of the stove. He drizzled a bit of oil around the pot, then dumped the diced foods into it.

“You are much more perceptive than I gave you credit,” he muttered after a moment, more to himself than her. It didn’t sound like a compliment. The diced foods began to sizzle, but he was slow to stir them, causing brown bits to stick to the bottom of the pot as he roughly scrapped the wooden spoon around.

“What if I were to tell you,” he spoke slowly, carefully picking his words, “that _Garlean ingenuity_ was responsible for that little mystery?”

She blinked. He poured a splash of wine into the pot, then tipped a large canteen into it, filling it halfway with what looked to be a meat stock of some kind.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if this castrum holds military secrets that I am not allowed to talk about?” The stew began to simmer, and still his gaze did not meet hers. “That I must ask you to allow me this mystery?”

She licked her lips. Truth be told, she didn’t know much about Garleans or their homeland, only gleaned what she had from passing interactions with visitors to the mountains. She knew that like most nations, they must have a military might of some kind, with their own innovations to back it up, but what he was implying sounded far beyond anything she could imagine.

“Have Garleans...found a way to teleport without the use of aether?”

He put the heavy lid on the pot, and finally looked at her with golden eyes that danced in the fire's light, a half-cocked smile tilting his lips.

“Perhaps this subject is best dropped, for now.” He winked at her and moved away from the simmering pot. “It will be a bit before dinner’s ready. Come, join me in front of the fire and I can show you how to properly maintain your new Garlean firearm.”

Vhel watched him stroll over to the coats and pluck his weapon from its spot on the wall. Her mind still reeled from his obscured confession, but she would have to reluctantly let it go. Delving into military secrets was a step too far, even for her curiosity.

With both of them sitting on the large hide rug spread out in front of the fireplace, Solus laid down a kitchen towel and began disassembling his weapon with deft, practiced hands. While laying out the parts, he explained to her the intricacies of the weapon, how to clean and maintain it, what to do if it jams, which was apparently a problem with this model, according to him. 

Vhel found herself completely absorbed in this new knowledge, fascinated by how all these parts came together to make it function. He fielded any questions she had as he reassembled it, then handed it to her and asked her to take it apart, just as he had. To no small amount of amusement to him, it took several minutes of fumbling and curses from her to get all the fiddly parts broken down. Then, after her struggle, he had the gall to tell her to put it all back together, to which she tossed the front sight at him. 

Finally, after much more cursing and with a little help from Solus, Vhel had a re-reassembled Garlean rifle to call her own. Satisfied with her work, and that the thing wouldn't fall apart under her care, Solus called the lesson done. As he wiped the gun’s grease off his hands with the towel, Vhel returned the rifle to its spot on the wall.

“You pick up quickly, for someone new to Garlean technology. I would be glad to give you shooting lessons sometime, if you'd like,” he offered, handing her the towel for her own dirtied hands as she sat back down next to him. It was certainly a messier thing than her bow.

"Is it more complicated than pointing and pulling the trigger?" 

"Not by a lot, but unlike your bow, there's the matter of recoil to worry about. Nothing to do but train with it, get the feel for it."

She hummed. “I suppose that wouldn’t be a bad idea, to get more tutelage from the expert.” She didn’t think she really needed the practice, but any reason to see him again sounded nice. Tossing the soiled towel aside when her hands were cleaned, she rubbed the sheen of sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. With both the stove and oven going, the room had become quite a bit warmer, and now smelled pleasantly of cooking food.

“It won’t be much longer before dinner’s ready,” Solus noted as he looked towards the kitchen, the pot now faintly gurgling. “I know stew isn't the most romantic of foods, but Nonus could only give me rations for the day’s meal without drawing suspicion." 

"Ah, so you intended all of this to be romantic?" She deadpanned, but the upward quirk of her lip betrayed her.

He sighed, ever so slightly leaning towards her.

“I would hope that your continued company would at least mean I’ve had some measure of success.”

“A small bit, perhaps,” she conceded, then drew her gaze back to the fireplace. “Despite my earlier misgivings, you are quite the fascinating man.” A log shifted, sending tiny sparks scattering in the hearth. All in all, it had turned out to be a far more interesting night than her relatively quiet life on the mountain usually offered. Got to peer into the lives of a world wholly removed from her own, be offended in new and annoying ways. Had dinner made for her, which really was a treat in itself. Learned of secrets she would have to keep.

“You know,” she looked around the room, taking everything in, “I would think that guard would be quite proud of you.” Solus made a questioning hum. “You did end up getting me alone in a bedroom after all.” 

He gave a weak laugh, but said nothing else. While they basked in the glow of the fire together, a comfortable silence settled between them, like they were old friends sharing a quiet moment of repose. Stealing a glance out of the corner of her eye, she saw him with the softest expression she yet to see on his tired face—the pale gold of his irises caught the reds and oranges of the fire, the light casting warmth across his pale cheeks. For once, his small smile seemed to reach his eyes, like a pleasant memory had carried him off while he gazed into the hearth.

Quite the handsome sort, she decided, and she wouldn’t be opposed to learning _more_ of him this night. 

"Mayhaps," she placed a hand down between them and leaned her weight on it, barely an ilm now separating them. "Mayhaps, earlier, I wasn't as offended by those suggestive comments as you had assumed?"

He made a startled sound, her words pulling him from whatever thought had taken him away.

"I would not be so bold as to assume what you could mean by that." He turned to her with wide eyes and raised brows.

"That's quite alright. I'm usually the bolder one in bed, anyways." Taking the initiative, she closed the gap between them, laying her ears down and back so she could rest her head comfortably on his shoulder, leaning fully against his solid frame. Sturdy and fit as a soldier, just like she expected.

He licked his lips, an ill-befitting nervousness suddenly overcoming him. 

"Ah, it has been... _awhile_ since—" a stuttered gasp stole his words as her hand came up and rubbed along his stomach, feeling his lean muscles tense through his shirt.

"No worries, I've never been with a man, so you're guaranteed to be the best," she couldn't help but tease.

"Never been with a— _Oh."_ His question quickly turned to realization as he caught her meaning. Coming from a clan where women vastly outnumber men had given her a decisively one-sided history of bedroom experiences, but that did nothing to diminish her confidence.

Her hand slid up his abdomen, fingertips tracing along the buttons of his shirt, before coming to rest with fingers splayed across his chest. Even here, she could feel tantalizing muscles shift under the soft fabric with each breath. Gently pushing against him to guide him down, she looked up to gauge his expression, only to see him staring with deep concern at the wall behind her head.

“Is everything alright?” Her hand yielded as she sat up. If he had some reservations about this, she would not go further.

After a moment his eyes found hers, the knit in his brow softening. Gingerly taking her hand from his chest, he brought it to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of her fingers. When next his eyes found hers, a weary sadness tinged his face.

“I’m afraid we will have to cut tonight short, my dear. We have guests.”

“What do you—?”

A sharp knock at the door ticked his expression into annoyance while a jolt of adrenaline shot up Vhel’s spine.

“Who’s in there?” A deep voice shouted from behind the door, followed by the doorknob being violently rattled about, testing the limits of its lock.

In a second Vhel sprinted across the room, and grabbed her bow from by the coats. Solus appeared next to her, seizing her wrist and shoving his rifle into her hand before she had a chance to turn away.

“Don’t let them catch you,” was his only answer to the uncertain look she gave him. His eyes burned with an intensity that rivaled the fire.

“What about you?”

Another round of heavy pounding and yelling prompted them to quickly cross the room to the balcony doors.

“You needn’t concern yourself with me,” Solus insisted as he dragged her outside. She clutched the cold medal of the rifle’s barrel in her grasp, steeling herself to argue, but he seemed to read her intent. “Now is not the time to play the hero. Leave as quietly as you came.”

She could hear the door start to give with the force of the strikes upon it. It sounded as though whatever guard had found them was now throwing themselves bodily into the door, fully intent on knocking it off its hinges if the lock did not give first.

She felt like a coward. She had never run from anything before, let alone some nothing guard, but this whole night had been so filled with strange firsts already. The idea of getting caught by a foreign army filled her with fear and panic wholly new to her. At his urging, she stood before the balcony’s railing. 

“You’ll still give me that shooting lesson, yes?” She turned back as a cold wind whipped around them. It was all she could think to ask, some small grasp of hope that he would find a way to make it out ok. 

It took a second for her question to sink in. With snowflakes catching in the dark brown part of his hair, he smiled and nodded, but doubt still seeped into her mind. Another bang from within, and she heard a bolt clatter to the floor. A silent look passed between them before—with the weight of dread heavy in her stomach—she started bounding across the rooftops, just as easily and silently as she did the treetops of her home.

In her mad dash for the stockade walls, she chanced one last glance back, only to see the golden light shining through the gap in the curtains snuffed out.


	4. After Image

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5.0 spoilers ahead. 
> 
> Edit 8/29/20: updated for minor 5.3 compliance changes

_Time Immemorial, Amaurot_   
  


The street lamps flickered to life as Hades paced restlessly outside the office of the Bureau of the Architect. Such energetic nervousness was a rare state for the esteemed Emet-Selch to be in, but this morning his _supposed_ friend had left him with a cryptic parting message that had shaken him to the core. Unfortunately, Convocation business had taken him far from the city center for the day—no doubt a factor in his friend's nefarious plan—and only now in the waning evening sun was he finally free to confront him.

With a dull creak, the doors to the building opened at last, and Hades's full attention snapped to the man strolling towards him.

"The most eminent Emet-Selch!" Hythlodaeus's good cheer and too-broad of a grin sent a cold feeling to the pit of Hades's stomach. This was a bad omen. "Waiting for me after work? To what do I owe the pleasure—"

"You know precisely what this is about." Hades stopped before him, arms crossed and eyes glaring through his red mask. Hythlodaeus tilted his head in a mock display of innocence.

"I've no idea what you mean, my dear friend." His grin broadened at Hades's aggravated sigh. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Hades briefly considered just walking away. Ignorance is bliss, he had once heard. Digging deep, he found his courage, and decided to cut straight to the point.

"Did you talk to her or not?"

"Perhaps."

"Hythlodaeus!" He looked up, his voice a mix of pleading and panicked. "She returns to Amaurot for the first time in weeks, and you immediately press her for her valuable time? And that is nothing to say how I am newly appointed! What if she thinks—" 

Hythlodaeus placed a gentle, calming hand on his shoulder, cutting his friend’s rant short.

"Relax, Hades. She has already agreed to meet with you."

Hades's already thought out retort quickly stuttered to a stop, leaving his mouth hanging slightly agape in surprise. 

"However, there is a catch," Hythlodaeus continued, ignoring his friend's sputtering. "I know this morning I had said I would see about her meeting with you for coffee, but I had an inclination to press your luck."

"How very generous," Hades ground out. 

"After some discussion, she expressed interest in having dinner at your home instead." 

Hades blinked. Then again. For several seconds, only white noise filled his mind.

"She—she did?"

Hythlodaeus nodded. "She was very interested in what the dwelling of Emet-Selch of the Convocation might look like," he explained with a knowing smile spreading across his lips. "One would think she has been waiting for your invitation, with how eagerly she invited herself to your home.”

Hades's annoyance at his friend waned at the warmth blooming in his chest and creeping onto his cheeks. His mind warred between rebuking Hythlodaeus for taking such a risky chance on his behalf, and feeling forever indebted to him. It depended on how the date went, he supposed.

"I don't know how to cook anything really outstanding," he quietly realized with a smile on his lips. This was a nice problem to have.

"Fear not, we have until tomorrow night." Hythlodaeus wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and the two started off in the direction of Hades's apartment. "I'm certain I can impart enough of my knowledge onto you so you can at least look like you know what you're doing in the kitchen."

Mind still in a daze from his muted excitement, Hades allowed himself to be led along. There was much to get done, and he intended to impress.


	5. Taken

_Year 1507 of the Sixth Astral Era, The Northernmost Peaks of the Skatay Mountain Range_

Vhel squinted against the glare of the morning sun, it’s light suddenly breaking over the top of the mountain range and glittering off the freshly fallen snow. She greeted this dawn with an urgency in her step as she picked her way down the foothills—three days had passed since her panicked flight from the castrum. 

The uncertainty of Solus’s fate made each night away a restless one. What punishment had awaited him for their trespassing? Unfamiliar with the way Garleans would treat such a transgression, her anxious mind filled in the blanks with only the worst outcomes. Or, holding on to thin hope, did he somehow manage to escape as well? She highly doubted that. For as grand as the decorum of the room was, it offered little in the way of cover, and there was no way he could leap across the roofs to escape as she had. 

These thoughts hounded her day and night, but her duties at home kept her from venturing back down the mountain. She was not yet sure how to explain to her sisters her deep concern for an outsider. Even the Garlean firearm he had gifted her had to remain a secret, hidden away among her things back home.

How strange, she thought as she picked her way through the undergrowth, for her to care so much for one such as him. But he had let her escape at his own peril, and she could at least see what fate had awaited him.

The lower down the mountain she went, the quicker her pace became, until she arrived at the treeline that ran along the edge of the castrum’s surrounding snowfield. Still high enough on the slope to see over the stockade, but she could only make out the people from this distance as small dots moving between the buildings.

Now, for the matter of finding her specific Garlean. Walking up to the front gates without knowing how the other night had gone seemed foolish. Solus didn’t seem the type to give her up if he was caught, but the guards could easily figure out who he was with since they had been seen together before.

She leaned against a tree and sighed, scratching behind an ear in thought. He seemed to have a knack for finding her, maybe he could do it again, if she had but the patience to wait.

As she debated her next course of action, sounds from the castrum floated up to her, a gradual swelling of voices and movement as the camp began to wake up. She watched with interest as more and more specks of people started to gather around the central praetorium building.

Far off footsteps crunching through the snow pulled Vhel from her thoughts, both of her ears swiveling towards the source as she turned. An armored guard walked leisurely along the treeline, heading in her direction. Hope quickly turned into disappointment as he neared—it wasn’t Solus, their frame being much bulkier than his. When they noticed her, they waved, friendly and lazy, but their presence set her on edge regardless. Even numbers and still in the treeline, she felt she had the advantage if any confrontation happened, so she decided to wait and see what she could learn from them. 

“Vhel, correct?” he asked as he drew closer, the distorted voice coming from the helmet sounding familiar.

She nodded, crossing her arms.

“Well how about that!” The sudden booming exclamation jogged her memory. He was the guard from before—Faustus, if she remembered correctly. “Solus will be pleased to see you, no doubt!”

Standing straight and eyes narrowing, she tilted her head. “What do you mean?” 

“Ah, I know that look,” he wagged a finger at her, trying to sound consoling. “Solus expressed that you may be wary of entering the castrum on your own. Can’t blame you, really, it is quite the impressive sight.” Faustus sighed, looking towards the camp, admiring his people’s work. “He asked that those of us assigned to the guard welcome you in, in case you decided to pay him a visit. How fortunate that I should find you on my morning patrol!”

She studied him for a long moment in silence. Mayhaps Solus had escaped capture, after all. Faustus seemed no less his obnoxious self than when she met him before, albeit brief as that was. If they had been given some kind of order to capture her upon her return, he was making no such aggression.

“I imagine he has been waiting with baited breath.” She could hear a smile in his tone as he looked back at her. “Well, I need to get on with it. Solus should be getting ready for the morning march right about now. If you hurry, you might be able to catch him before they leave.” With a final wave, he walked past her and continued on with his patrol around the snowfield’s edge.

At his words, Vhel’s courage came quick, and she started towards Castrum Hiberna before her worried mind could doubt her steps. Unlike the other night, the main road buzzed with activity this morning. Soldiers in full armor walked with those still struggling to get theirs on, obviously late to start their day. Some people wrapped in thick winter coats and scarves walked by carrying boxes and crates, hurrying to get their deliveries made. Everyone was so busy with their morning prep, few spared even a glance at the Veena venturing cautiously into their home.

_“You came back.”_

A voice made light with disbelief came from behind Vhel. She turned around, and couldn’t keep the amused smile from her lips at the sight of Solus’s raised brows. 

“Of course." Relaxing her stance, she tried her best to sound casual, and not as though she had been filled with worry for him. "Did you think I would be scared away?"

"Certainly not," he said softly, his gaze shifting into such a tender expression that it threatened to color her cheeks.

Willing the flush away, she took a moment to take in his appearance. Wearing the bulky armor she had first seen him in, he looked no worse than the last time they had met, save for his tousled hair—but his helmet held at his side explained that.

“How do you fare? Since last time…”

“Since we spent a wonderful evening together in the barracks?” He smiled in the lopsided way of his that she was growing fond of. “If nothing else, Faustus at least followed through on his promise to keep my bunkmates out, so there are none that could attest to the contrary.”

“But what of the guard?”

He thumbed at a scuff on the helmet's side. "This is going to sound rather, ah, _undignified,_ but there was just enough room in one of the wardrobes for me to hide myself away in until he left.” 

_“Clever,”_ she laughed as relief washed over her. Stepping closer, she reached up and trailed a finger along the metal groves of his chestplate. “We will have to pick up where we left off, sometime.”

“I agree, it’s not good form to leave things half finished, after all.” The air of nervousness from the other night returned, but with the undeniable shine of eagerness behind his eye. His free hand came up to take hers, fingers lacing as the rough leather of his gloved thumb rubbed circles on her hand. 

“Perhaps we should find a place where we won't be disturbed,” she mused. He smiled, but it quickly wilted. 

"I must apologize for the other night. I was led to believe the guards did not bother patrolling the vacant halls in the Praefectus’s absence, but _evidently_ that was not the case."

"Please,” she scoffed, “I have met scarier things on the mountains than some halfwit Garlean guard." A show of bravado, to hide her previous cowardice.

Suddenly, a voice called out from the direction of the praetorium, loud enough to cut through the morning mummer, summoning the soldiers to gather round. Solus sighed, deep and tired. An unseen weight settled back onto his shoulders.

“It pains me to have to ask you to wait,” his golden eyes found hers, “but I’ve no choice but to go along with this. If I could be so bold as to ask you to come back later?” That hopeful twist laced his tone again, pulling at her heart in its bewitching way.

“I suppose,” she sighed, shifting her weight onto one foot. Seeing that he was well was enough for now. She could handle waiting for his company a little bit longer.

“Excellent. My last job today will put me in the storehouse this evening,” he nodded to a large, squat stone building sitting a little ways off to the side of the praetorium. “Look for me in there, if I don’t find you first.”

She nodded. The voice called again for those present to assemble, with more finality and urgency this time. With one more glance and squeeze of her hand, he let go, begrudgingly turning to join his fellow countrymen in the growing crowd. When she finally lost track of him in the mass of soldiers, she made for the gate. Her own duties back home were, thankfully, light today, and she could easily duck out later without many questions.

***

Vhel pulled her thick hide coat tighter around herself as she walked through the quickly becoming familiar entrance gate. The glow of the setting sun painted the castrum in oranges and yellows, the warm colors at odds with the evening chill that had set in. A calmness replaced the bustle she had seen that morning, with groups of people slowly meandering about. More now had the time to take notice of the tall Viera walking down their main street, and more than a few eyes lingered too long.

"You're going to see Solus, right?" A short Garlean woman abruptly approached Vhel from out of nowhere, her face flushed from the cold and bundled in a large coat and woolly scarf. Vhel’s brows furrowed, but the woman didn’t wait for her to answer before digging around in the heavy bag hanging at her side.

"How do you know?"

"Not everyday that a highborn invites a Veira into his room. Word spreads fast, especially out here where there’s little else of interest going on." She spoke quickly, like a woman without much time to spare. "He’s always a real pain in the arse to find. One would think he didn't want his mail."

Producing from her overstuffed bag a thin envelope, she looked back up at Vhel.

"So, if you could give this to him, I would be most appreciative." Once again, the woman didn't wait for an answer. She shoved the letter into Vhel's hand before jogging away, already calling out and trying to flag down to her next target.

Taken aback by the hasty encounter, Vhel examined the envelope as she continued on, carefully turning it around in her hands. It was a mostly unremarkable thing, save for the wax seal with an ornate family crest pressed into it on one side, and _To Lord Solus Galvus_ written in a very elegant hand on the other. 

After several attempts and finally putting her full weight behind it, Vhel managed to get the heavy wooden door to the storehouse open, the bottom of it dragging noisily against the stone floor as it slid across. Inside were stacks and stacks of all the various things needed for the day to day life in the castrum, forming neat corridors of foodstuffs and supplies that stretched all the way to the back of the building. As Vhel poked around she noticed that, much to her surprise, it all looked very well organized and categorized. For some reason, she had expected more of a mess.

At the end of the aisle farthest from the door, she finally spotted Solus. Judging from the paper attached to the clipboard on the ground nearby, he was _supposed_ to be taking inventory of the castrum's stock. Instead, a spare cot put away in a dim corner had proved too tempting to pass up for a nap, his neatly folded jacket serving as an improvised pillow. Now in his modest civilian clothes, with his hair gently mussed about and lips slightly parted in sleep, he looked...serene. It would almost be a shame to wake him from such a peaceful slumber, she thought.

Almost.

“Hello, Solus. Having a bit of a lie down?” 

He jolted awake at the sound of Vhel's voice, but his startled look faded when he saw her smirking down at him. Laying his head back down on his jacket, he rubbed his tired eyes.

“Can I interest you in some canned fish?” he asked, voice thick with sleep. “We apparently have a surplus of the horrid stuff, for some reason.”

“Tempting, but I’ll have to pass." She allowed him a moment to collect himself before holding out the envelope. "You’ve got a letter, by the by.”

Regarding it with a weary look, he silently took it from her and popped open the seal. Plucking out the letter from within, she watched his golden eyes quickly read over it before tucking it neatly back into the envelope, then tossed it carelessly to the floor. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he became so still that she thought he had fallen back asleep.

“Care to join me?” He turned to her hopefully, both his hands going down to rest casually across his stomach.

At first she blanked at the sudden question, but then took the opportunity to drink in the sight of his long, lean form laying before her. 

“I don’t know, quite a small cot for two people,” she pointed out with a knowing smile creeping onto her lips. A brown brow cocked in response.

“I can think of a way for us to both fit.”

She liked this confident invitation of his. Setting her bow and quiver to the side and shrugging out of her coat, she slung a leg over him, settling her weight in the low sling of his hips. As soon as she was comfortably straddling him, his hands came up to urge her down, pulling her into a gentle embrace. 

“I don’t know how entertaining I’ll be this evening,” he murmured apologetically into her snowy hair spilling over her shoulder. “We had a rather more thorough training session than usual today. I’m still...getting accustomed to such rigorous physical activity.”

In lieu of a reply, she trailed soft kisses along his neck. It was so warm in here, wrapped in his arms, her body pressing down onto his, that the chill just outside the stone walls seemed malms away. To be with him, in their quiet corner together, was all she needed after all the time spent so far apart.

“You keep me in suspense, you know,” she said softly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

He hummed absently, his hands rubbing slow, idle circles along her back. He sounded as though he could drift back to sleep at any moment.

“The letter you received. Anything of interest?”

“Just mummery from home." He held her tighter. "Nothing to be concerned with.”

They lapsed into a comfortable quiet. One of his hands traveled up the length of her spine, continuing beyond to card his fingers through her thick, wavy hair. She moved to pepper the other side of his neck in light kisses, her lips traveling past his jaw to hover just above his.

Solus closed the space between them, his lips moving tender and sweet against hers.


	6. Ghost Stories

Consciousness slowly came to Vhel, and with it the groggy realization that these scratchy coverings wrapped around her were not her plush blankets. This was not her bed she laid on, feeling much too rough and unforgiving. The gentle weight of an arm laying across her chest was a pleasant surprise though, gently pulling her to the warm form pressed along her side.

The fog of sleep gradually cleared, and Vhel found herself in a nest of pilfered cotton survival blankets and spare military issue coats. They were all piled atop two cots that had been pushed together in an attempt to make something resembling a bed. Though, Solus was so closely curled up next to her now that it nearly made pointless the effort they had gone through to find the second cot.

Memories of last night floated across her mind's eye. It had been Solus’s suggestion to spend the night in the storehouse together. After chatting for a bit, Vhel got the distinct impression that he strongly disliked his bunkmates at the best of times, and with how swiftly he had gathered the materials for their bedding she would wager this was not his first time sleeping in here. 

After they had settled in, comfortable in each other’s arms, she had asked him to tell her about Garlemald. He told her of cold stone buildings with even colder steel walls winding throughout, where it snowed near constantly and the skies were always grey and drab. She would like to see it for herself one day, even with his dreary description, and when she told him as much he pulled her closer and asked her to tell him of her home, instead. As she told him of the village she grew up in, the highest on the mountain’s slope with crystal clear skies, of her sisters and how they meant for her to start training for the guard soon, he listened to it all with rapt attention despite the sleep clearly pulling at him.

Solus stirring awake beside her brought her back to the present.

“Good morning to you, stranger,” she greeted him. With a soft touch, she tucked his disheveled bangs away from his face, making sure to mind his third eye. Two bleary, golden eyes cracked open, peering up at her under heavy lids, before squeezing shut again. Nuzzling into her own sleep-ruffled hair like he meant to hide away from the day, he mumbled against her shoulder. 

<<What time is it?>>

“Come again?” Vhel asked, bewildered. She could have sworn his question was spoken in a language she had never heard before, and yet she had understood every word of it.

“What time is it?” he repeated with a yawn, in the common tongue, completely unaware of the wide-eyed look directed towards him. 

Vhel shook her head to clear her thoughts. Some lingering languor must still be muddling her mind, she reasoned, causing her to mishear.

“I’ve no idea, but it must be early.”

What she heard next definitely sounded like a petulant grumble cursing the morning. He sat up on his elbow, the blankets falling away to reveal his bare shoulders. They had both stripped down to their smallclothes to sleep in last night, but, much to her surprise and a little disappointment, this had not led to getting to know the Garlean in a more _intimate_ manner. 

He leaned over her, causing more of the blanket to fall away and afforded her a nice glimpse of his muscular chest before he pressed his lips to hers. Gentle and chaste, slow and sweet, she drank in his kiss as if it were honeyed nectar. Her hands traveled along his back, savoring the way his lean muscles shifted under her palms when he broke away to press his forehead against hers, third eye pressing against her.

“If it's not too late, we can stop by the kitchen to get breakfast,” Solus mentioned, tiredness fading from his voice. “I’m actually quite fond of the biscuits, personally.”

"That so?" She didn't know what a 'biscuit' was, but she'd be willing to try one if he vouched for it. “I’d rather think to have my breakfast in bed this morning, actually.” Her hands drifted down to his hips, fingertips teasing along the top hem of his smallclothes, but halted their descent when she felt him tense above her.

“Not here,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to her forehead. “Not in some dusty old warehouse.”

“Did you have somewhere in mind?”

He thought for a moment.

“I would like it to be someplace nicer, at least. Someplace I can take my time and lavish you _properly.”_

“Quite the romantic, aren’t you?” She could feel her eyes scrunch up with her smile. His desire to sneak into the praefectus’s room suddenly didn’t seem so peculiar—Solus was a man with finer taste, it seemed. Made sense, for one getting letters that addressed him as _Lord Solus Galvus_. 

“I don’t mind waiting,” she continued, her fingers sliding up through the short hairs on the nape of his neck, “but know that I would tumble you in an instant, anywhere, if you asked.”

He drew in a stuttering breath at her confession, and she took quite a bit of pleasure in knowing that alone was enough to shake his composure. He pulled her in closer, his warm chest pressing down on hers.

"As much as I would dearly wish to stay like this all day," he sighed into the crook of her neck, "I need to report for duty assignments before noon."

With great reluctance on both their parts, he pulled away, her fingers gliding down his arms as he moved off the bed. After they were both dressed and bundled up for another cold day, Solus hid their bedding away for, Vhel hoped, future use. They made their way out of the storehouse, Vhel lending Solus her strength to help open the stubborn front door. A pale lavender sky greeted them, the sun’s rays just barely gracing the morning. A night’s snow had covered the castrum in fresh powder, but most of it had already been trampled down.

“The kitchen might be already closed...” Solus lamented, looking towards the sky. “We’ll just have to see.” He reached down and laced his fingers through hers, and surprising herself she felt her cheeks warm at the unexpected gesture. They started across the castrum with him leading the way, heading towards a building that she figured must be the front stone facade to the kitchen from the other night. Thick smoke billowed out of a blackened chimney and the enticing scent of cooking sausages drifted through the frigid air as they drew closer.

“What do you usually take for breakfast?” he asked as they crossed what looked to be a courtyard of sorts. Soldiers sat on halved logs around smoldering fire pits, chatting and sipping at steaming cups.

“I’ll take anything, really. I’m not picky—”

“Solus! A moment!” A shout interrupted her. His grip on her hand tightened before falling away as the sound of footsteps approached them from behind.

“Yes?” Solus asked as they turned to face a duo of Garlean soldiers clad in armor, a tall one and a shorter one. If they noticed the chill in his voice, they made no indication as they came to a stop before them.

“We would like to ask your girl something.” Vhel tensed at the man’s blunt words, as did Solus next to her. 

“Yer a local, right?” The shorter one asked, turning to Vhel. She had her helmet off, and didn’t bother hiding the long, scrutinizing look she leveled at the Viera. “Live on these mountains and whatnot?”

Vhel hesitated, but gave a curt nod.

“Then maybe you can help settle a disagreement we’re having,” the man continued. “Are these mountains haunted, by any chance?”

Vhel tilted her head, confused, and a little annoyed at being interrupted for such an idiotic question. “Of course not.” 

“I told you it was an imp!” the taller one exclaimed triumphantly to his companion, swatting her on the arm.

“A voidsent wouldn’t have left the room intact, ya twit,” the woman countered fiercely. “It has to have been a ghost, or some other kind of ashkin at the very least. There’s no other explain’ it.”

“But the local just said there are no ghosts here!”

Vhel glanced over to Solus, hoping to get some help with these arguing Garleans, but his arms were crossed with face buried in his hand, distinctly giving off the air of someone who dearly wished to be anywhere but here right now.

“What are you talking about?” Vhel finally asked when she realized she would get no help from her Garlean.

The man cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “There have been some strange happenings in the camp recently,” he answered. “Rumors are going around that the castrum is haunted by ghosts or some such, but I’m of the mind that voidsent imps are the ones causing mischief.”

“Ghosts?” She repeated, skepticism heavy in her tone. She had heard of such creatures before, but only in stories meant to scare children. That adults were discussing it with such seriousness beggared belief.

“That’s the only explanation I think fits, if you believe Publius,” the woman explained.

“And why should we believe anything from a man who has clearly spent far too many hours patrolling empty halls?” Solus finally spoke up, looking at the two Garleans with a fatigued gaze despite only just getting out of bed.

“Now, now,” the man chided Solus, “to his credit, even the backup he called for agreed that the room smelled like that night's dinner.”

That caught Vhel’s attention and worry started to prickle at her mind.

“What did you say happened?”

“Ah,” the man turned back to Vhel, her reflection catching on the polished metal of the helmet he wore, “Publius was assigned praetorium duty the other night, and got quite the fright.” Vhel’s heart skipped a beat as she glanced over to Solus, who looked entirely unconcerned for where this conversation seemed to be heading. “While on his patrol, he swears up and down that he heard voices coming from Lemonius’s room. Now, the praefectus has been out of the camp for the past week, so naturally he assumed that someone had gone and broken in.”

“He even knocked the door down trying to get in, the poor sod,” the woman added.

“What did he find inside?” Vhel asked, mouth suddenly becoming dry, but trying her best to sound only mildly interested.

The man shrugged. “It was just as the praefectus had left it. But Publius even says that the stove and hearth had a heat to them, like they just recently had a fire going. A bit spooky, innit?”

Solus waved his hand dismissively. “Wild claims of a man gone mad with boredom, nothing more. If I remember right, the others he summoned to help search found no traces of intruders either, correct?”

The man hummed in confirmation. “And you better believe they were none too happy to be dragged out into the cold over a warm stove.”

“Oh yes, I imagine so,” Solus tried to sound sympathetic, but there was a falseness to it. “Well, this has been most enlightening, but we should really be going. Breakfast and whatnot.” He took Vhel’s hand in his again, giving a lazy wave over his shoulder as they turned and started towards the kitchen again.

“Are you worried they’ll figure us out?” Vhel whispered after they had put some distance between them and the other two, their continued discussion of ashkin and voidsent fading into the background noise of the camp. 

“Not at all. This castrum is filled with bumbling idiots, and you heard it yourself—I left nothing behind that could point to us.” 

Vhel worried her lip, unconvinced. 

“But how did you put the fires out that fast? Or hide the pot? That bugger was nearly through the door when I left.” 

“I worked quickly,” was his airy answer as they came to a slow stop before the kitchen’s doors. Solus turned to her, taking both her hands in his and rubbed his thumbs across the back of her hands reassuringly. “Please, don’t worry about this any further.”

Vhel tried to find some more defiance in herself, to argue why she should in fact worry about this, but she truly was becoming too weak to him. She sighed, defeated by the way his golden eyes pleaded with her.

“They think we’re a couple of specters.” She nudged him playfully, trying to lighten her own mood. “How’s that? Couple of lost souls having a run of the place doesn’t sound too bad, to be honest. Be a nice way to avoid your annoying countrymen.”

The teasing smile she turned on him faltered at the way his brows knit together. For a long moment, his eyes held hers with an emotion she couldn’t name behind his golden irises, as if something weighed on his mind that his tongue wouldn’t allow him to say.

She nudged him again. “You can haunt my quarters anytime you like, you know.”

Much to her relief, a huff of a laugh broke through whatever melancholy had momentarily overtaken him.

“I will keep that in mind,” he sighed. “Now, what can I get you for breakfast?”


	7. Amaurot Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated for 5.3 compliance

_ Time Immemorial, Amaurot _

  
  
  


“My dear? Did you hear me?”

When Hades heard no answer, he poked his head around the kitchen wall. There, in the middle of his living room, was a sight he had longed to see—the woman of his deepest affections, sitting on the floor of his apartment, comfortably working at his crystalline coffee table as if this were her own home. The dawn sun shining in from his balcony windows framed her, the golden light kissing the rich material of the nightgown she had gone to bed in the previous night.

A scribble here, a scratch out and rewrite there, she had been editing her reports since before he awoke. Across the armrest of the couch laid her communal robe, while her white mask still hung next to his red one by the front door. He wondered if she had initially intended to head to her office to work that morning, and the thought she instead stayed here with him filled him with a hazy warmth.

“You really should try eating something,” he said as he sat down on the couch behind her. Brushing her hair from her shoulder, he watched it cascaded down her back. “Wouldn’t do to pass out in the Convocation's presence from hunger.”

“I know, I know, it’s just—I still have so much left to read over and double check.” Her eyes stayed fixed to the papers in front of her as she spoke.

To his ears, she sounded altogether too anxious so early in the morning. Giving up on coaxing her to breakfast, he slid to the floor between her and the couch, his legs framing her on either side. He circled his arms around her and gently pulled her away from her work to lie against his bare chest.

“You are fretting entirely too much,” he cooed into the silvery waterfall of her hair. She tilted her head back to rest against his shoulder, sending the scent of lavender drifting over him. “Your approval is all but guaranteed.” Despite a dismissive _ tut _ at his words, she relaxed against him, unwinding from the stress she put on herself.

When he learned that she had been approached as a candidate to fill the recently vacant seat of Azem, he was elated. It had not been so long ago since his own appointment. To have her up for consideration amongst the Convocation, he could only describe it as a boon. Though, considering her tendency to wander far from the safety of Amaurot, it hardly surprised him.

“It disappointed me to hear that you won’t be taking part in my evaluation, but I suppose that’s expected.” She reached up and carded her fingers through his short hair. Hades hummed in mild agreement.

“The others felt it would lead to biases if I assisted with the selection process.” He kissed up her neck, ending with a final one behind the shell of her ear. “I’m inclined to agree.”

“A pity,” she sighed, “I think I could use the extra help.”

“Nonsense. I have seen the other two vying for the position. While talented in their own rights, none come close to the level of—hm...” His lips set in a tight line as he thought back to a recent incident. “... _ dedication _ to you put into your work.”

She laughed at the hidden reprimand in his words.

“Are you still sore about that beast that chased me? I made it up the cliff in time. Mostly unharmed.”

“And you were lucky for it. Had Loghrif not chanced upon you, I shudder to think what might have happened.”

“Sweet of you to worry so.” She rubbed her hands along his thighs. “I will have to work on something that calls you to my side, then. In case I need backup again. I could even teach you a few offensive spells, if you’d like.”

He would love nothing more than just that.

“I’ll think about it.”

The sounds of the city below waking up floated through his windows. It wouldn’t be long until he needed to get ready for the day, as well. Lahabrea would have words with him if he was late for another morning meeting, despite his protest that they were entirely too early.

“Didn’t the original Halmarult,” she spoke up, giving voice to a wayward thought, “have an amazing specimen that won him favor with the Convocation?”

Hades shuddered.

“I’d rather not dwell on that. The creature yet lives in Akadaemia Anyder for students to poke and prod at, despite its horrid smell leaching into the nearby halls.” 

She laughed and sank more into his embrace, pressing warm against him. The morning sunbeams stretched long across the living room, catching on the crystal legs of the coffee table and scattering tiny rainbows on the far wall.

“If I am appointed,” she started slowly, the apprehension in her voice immediately seizing his attention, “and I am sent off to roam the star...will you wait for me, Hades?”

He held her tighter. The duties of Azem were unlike any other in the Convocation. She would be gone weeks, if not months, at a time. And his home would once again be left empty. A sobering thought, but one he had long come to terms with.

“If you’re worried I’ll get lonely, don’t. Hythlodaeus has assured me he will visit  _ ‘incessantly’  _ in your absence. His exact word, mind.”

She laughed at that, but he could feel her tense muscles returning. Reports on her recent outings still laid across the table, ready for her to worry over. It was an unnecessary precaution, he thought, but he supposed that’s why she was easily most fit for the job. But even great minds deserved a break.

He gazed down at how the silken nightgown hugged her body, his eyes trailing to the apex of her thighs, hidden underneath the loose fabric draping across her lap.

“When is your presentation scheduled for?” he asked.

“At noon.”

Nuzzling into her hair, he hummed in thought.

“Enough time for a quick one.” He pulled her closer to his chest. She turned her head up towards him in question.

“Quick one what?”

“Well, my dear,” his voice deepened as his hand slid down her stomach, “I’ve an idea on how to help you relax. You seem ever so tense from all this.” Through her thin nightgown, he drummed his fingers along the top hem of her smallclothes.

Glancing down, he saw a wolfish smile pulling on the corners of her soft lips. An eager fire flickered to life behind her eyes.

“Go on.” 

Emboldened, his hand descended, pushing the fabric aside and dipping underneath the hem. The way she readily spread her legs for him stopped his breath for a beat. Fingers gliding past dense curls, a long drag of his middle finger through her folds met him with a pleasant surprise.

“You’re already wet,” he chuckled breathlessly, slipping deeper in with his slender digit, her waiting sex enveloping him all down to the last knuckle.

“Like you can— _ Ah! _ —talk,” she huffed. She relaxed more of her weight back onto him, nudging his own growing arousal in between his legs. His breath becoming labored, he pushed another finger into her, that heady heat engulfing his thoughts as he pumped into her.

“W-wait!” At her breathy plea, his hand stuttered to a stop. “I want,” she licked her lips, “I want you to—” Eagerness overrode her words. She moved from his lap, his fingers pulling out. He watched in a daze as she pushed the table away and stepped out of her smallclothes. Then, to his utter delight that made his cock jump against its confines, she got on her knees and bent over, presenting herself to him. She peered at him over her shoulder with hooded, lust filled eyes.

_ “Hades, I need you—” _

Freeing himself, he was on top of her before she could finish her sentence, mounting her with the finesse of a beast in rut. His swollen, ruddy head pushed past her folds and slid deep into her. With long, drawn-out thrusting arcs, he kissed along her back, trying to prolong this exquisite pleasure, fighting against his instincts urging him to take her.

But it was a losing battle. Pace falling to erratic movements, his hips snapped into her with a fierce force, the echoes of their coupling mixing with her cries of bliss that filled his apartment. Gripping the rug underneath her, tremors rolled through her as she peaked under him. He felt her velvety walls flutter around him, milking him, throwing him into his own completion. One, two, three more drives in, he stuttered out sweet nothings as he spilled deep within her core.

Before he could catch his breath, a tremble in her legs got his attention. Hissing through his teeth at the overstimulation, he pulled his softening cock from her, and she collapsed to the floor with a satisfied groan.

“How’s that? Relaxed?” he asked, panting, and summoned a washcloth from aether. Gently nudging her to roll over onto her back, he set about cleaning up his essence pooling between her legs.

“Perhaps,” she sighed happily. As he reached up to brush her hair from her flushed face, his hand stopped mid air at the mesmerizing sight before him. 

Sunlight shining through the crystal table showered them both in a galaxy of soft rainbows.


	8. Afternoon Coffee

_Year 1508 of the Sixth Astral Era, The Northernmost Peaks of the Skatay Mountain Range_

The rifle’s shot rang out through the foothills, echoing metallic across the grassy slopes and bouncing back again. Vhel pulled the bolt handle towards her, cocking the gun and sending the spent casing flying to the fresh spring grass at her feet. Bolt clicking back into place, she brought the weapon to sit against her shoulder again, aimed, and squeezed the trigger.

Another shot rolled over the mountainside, but the target remained determinedly untouched.

“I’ll be honest, my dear, I did not expect this to be such a challenge for you.” Solus’s voice commented from behind her. Vhel’s ear twitched in annoyance. A warm breeze blew through the clearing they stood in, sending the looser strands of hair in her ponytail fluttering free.

“It’s too far,” she decided stubbornly, tucking her hair out of her face as best she could. “It can’t be hit from this distance.”

After overcoming her innate tendency to over correct for an arrow’s arch, hitting the targets that were within her bow’s range became easy. It was when Solus moved them away several hundred fulms that her accuracy took a nosedive. And after hours of practice, she showed very little improvement with the Garlean firearm.

“That so?”

Vhel didn’t like the confidence in his tone one bit, and much less the self-assured swagger with which he plucked the rifle from her. Aiming it with practiced easy, a single pull of the trigger was all it took to knock the head clean off the wooden dummy.

He turned to her with such a handsome grin she wasn’t sure if she should kiss him or smack him.

“I don’t know why I would ever need to hit a target at this distance anyway,” she huffed as he returned the rifle. “Whether my mark goes down at 600 fulms or 200 will make little difference in the end.” 

Solus reached up and tucked another wayward strand of hair from her face, humming as if he might argue her point but thought better of it. He seemed to pick up on the slight annoyance that he helped cause.

“You seem tense,” he settled on instead. “How about we set this aside for now? There’s something I want to try, if you would indulge me.”

“And what would that be?”

“Why don’t you show me how to use your bow?” he asked lightly, gold irises catching the sunlight. “I’ve never had the opportunity to shoot one, and I’ve been curious.”

Vhel’s ears perked up. The thought of teaching him bubbled up a warmth in her chest.

Walking over to the shade of the nearby tree where they had set their things, she leaned the rifle against the trunk and picked up her bow. The wood was warm and familiar in her grasp after the cold of the Garlean steel. She paused, thinking, before deciding to leave her quiver.

Solus cocked his head in silent questioning when she handed him only the bow.

“We’ll work on your form first before you try shooting my arrows across the field,” she explained. After adjusting his hand on the grip and showing him where to pinch the bowstring, she stood behind aways and crossed her arms, ready to size him up. “Now, draw the string back. Let me see what I’m working with.” 

“Simple enough. So like this, then?” Solus asked, raising the bow and pulling his arm back.

Vhel was never more grateful for the warmer weather. No more bulky jackets obscuring his figure, her eyes followed the line of his long legs up to his slender hips, dark trousers meeting his button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his toned forearms as he held the bow at full draw.

“Almost.” She stepped behind him and reached around, brushing her fingers up the lean dips and curves of his stomach. She laid her hand across his chest and pressed him backward to stand flush against her, straightening his posture. A stutter in his breath didn’t go unnoticed. Trailing feather light touches down his arm, she cupped her other hand over his on the grip, lowering the bow a degree to improve his alignment.

“Again,” she commanded, whispering behind the shell of his ear, “but this time, use your shoulders to pull and not your arm.”

He nodded, relaxing his stance before bringing the bow up again. Holding him close, she felt the defined muscles of his shoulder blades shift and flex against her chest as he drew the taut string backwards once more.

“Like that,” she sighed as his scent of crackling firewood rolled over her, heady and smoky, more intoxicating than any alcohol.

“Enjoying yourself?” he purred low and velvety. The smirk in his voice pulled her from her daze. His form relaxed as he shifted in her arms enough to look over his shoulder at her, an amused spark flickering in his eyes and pulling up the corner of his lips.

She cleared her throat. “Your stance is too wide,” she continued, trying to regain her composure. “Move this leg in closer.”

She rubbed a deliberate hand down his side, savoring the soft gasp she heard from him as she gripped high on his thigh. He did as she asked, moving his feet more in line with his shoulders.

“Good.” Traveling back up the slight swell of his leg, her hand hesitated on his hip, waiting for his permission to move to the heat teasing the end of her fingertips. 

“Go on,” he urged, breathless.

She took in a shaky breath. Sliding her hand over—

“Gods,” she gasped as she caressed the hardness tenting the front of his trousers. Burning need crashed over, threatening to buckle her knees with how much she wanted him. 

Ever since their night in the storehouse some weeks ago, between her village prepping for spring hunts and his castrum duties, the opportunity to get intimate remained frustratingly elusive. Solus’s lofty standards for where it happened didn’t help either. To think that maybe now, here, under the springtide sun on warmed grass she could finally have him sent electricity up her spine.

She palmed him harder through his trousers. Labored breath, the sound of her bow falling to the ground all vaguely registered to her ears. She moved the hand on his chest up the pulse of his throat to cup his chin. Tracing a finger pad over his soft lips, she felt a smile on them before he lapped at her finger, sucking it into his warm mouth, sending molten fire pulsing in her veins and between her legs.

She slid around to his front. Desperate to taste him, she clashed her lips against his and he returned in kind, his hands grabbing at her hair and pulling it loose from its tie. All the time spent waiting and wanting boiled over, their kiss becoming teeth and tongue and bitten lips. Her footing stumbled in her excitement, but she leaned into it, falling backwards, tugging him down with her—

_Snap._

Lush fabric met her skin as she landed.

Like two burning golden suns, his eyes blew wide above her. Whatever color he had on his pale cheeks drained away. 

“I didn’t mean to—” His voice broke as a shadow of dread marred his handsome face. Frozen in place, Solus sat straddling her hips with hands planted on either side of her head. 

She turned her gaze to the side, admiring how the teal material shimmered in the sunlight as she took it between her fingertips. Somehow, someway, a plush blanket had materialized under her, cushioning their fall. His hand gripped white knuckled into the fabric.

Turning back, Vhel saw how his eyes searched her. How his lips slightly parted. She knew his mind raced on what to say, on how he could talk his way out of this like how he had with so many strange happenings before.

“You can use magic.” Her own flat voice sounded distant to her ears.

His mouth opened and closed with stuttering false starts, caught between which excuse to give her.

“Why did you try to hide it?” she demanded. She managed to keep the hurt from her tone, but her eyes threatened to betray her. He had lied to her. On several occasions. “You are not the first I’ve met who can manipulate aether.”

“It is very rare for a pureblood Garlean to possess the ability to channel their aether.” A simple fact, but spoken with a hushed, pained expression that twisted her stomach. “It will complicate things if people found out.”

A weight settled in her chest. She thought to ask him what he meant, but she had a feeling that she would not get the truth out of him.

“Am I the only one who knows?” Her question barely escaped a whisper as the realization dawned on her. 

As if he didn’t trust himself to speak, he gave a slow nod, his bangs falling forward to frame his face, that white streak always laying out of place. Aurum eyes bore into her, and his prolonged lapse into silence unsettled her. Seldom did Vhel find herself faltering under anyone’s gaze.

“I can’t claim to understand the why of it,” she spoke slowly, measuring her words so he knew her sincerity, “nor do I think you will tell me. But if this is important to you, I will keep it a secret.” 

Only after she reached up to caress his face, her thumb stroking over his cheek, did some measure of relief start to work away the worry on his brow. Closing his eyes, he turned his head into her palm, his hand coming up to keep hers held to his lips.

“I think,” he began pressing slow, soft kisses down the inside of her arm, “I think I wanted you to find out.” A quiet confession spoken into the delicate skin of her wrist. It hung in the air between them.

Enjoying the leisurely procession of kisses down her arm, she relaxed back into the blanket under her, the velvety material cradling her.

“This is quite advanced magic, if I’m not mistaken,” she mused. “I’ve heard of especially powerful mages conjuring weapons made of aether, but never something as solid as this.”

“I can make much more impressive things than this,” he mumbled against the crook of her elbow, his confident air returning, bringing a smile to her own lips. 

“Yeah? You will have to show me sometime,” she sighed. “Now, why did you conjure a blanket for us to lie on, I wonder?”

“To lavish you, of course.”

A shiver shot up her spine at his unabashed declaration. Moving on from her arm, he leaned forward to mouth along her neck and jaw, pulling from her meek whimpers at the gentle brush of his lips against the sensitive skin. As he settled more of his weight on top of her, she felt a hardness press down atop her stomach. 

To her dismay, a traitorous warmth gathered on her face. Usually the one to take the lead in a tumble, she had never been under someone like this, never found herself at the mercy of such unrelenting tender ministrations. Pulling the collar to her shirt aside, his hot breath rolled over the top of her shoulder, sending a shudder through her and deepening her blush. 

“I’ve dreamt of this for so long,” his voice deepened with want into the crook of her neck. A calloused hand slid under her shirt and up her stomach, kneading her breasts still covered by her smallclothes. His hips shifted, grinding his clothed length against her. Torn between bliss and bitter, every little thing he did chipped more and more away at her nerves, the heat building between them becoming unbearable.

“You’ve gotten awfully quiet, my dear.”

Cursing herself, she realized too late that he had paused to peer at her out of the corner of his eyes. Caught off guard, she brought her hand to cover her face in a futile attempt to hide the tint of her cheeks.

“I don’t know what’s come over me.” Defeat seeped into her tone. Here he was, waiting and ready at her fingertips, and yet she was stumbling over herself.

“We can stop, if you wish.”

She shook her head.

“I’ll not muck this up for myself just because of some nerves,” she chastised herself. Now, of all times, for this fluttering feeling in her stomach to appear was enough to drive her mad. 

While her cheeks still burned, she allowed him to pull her hand away from her face, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. As though striking upon an idea, he hummed. A quick peck to her cheek, and he rolled off and to her side, urging her up and over to straddle his hips instead.

As she looked down at him, the tightness in her chest relented.

“Better?” he asked with a warm smile that reached his eyes.

She gripped his shirt and nodded, her confidence returning now that she sat in a more comfortable position. Settling down across him, her backside bumped the hardness still confined to his trousers.

“Bet that’s getting uncomfortable,” she teased, reaching a hand behind her and groping him through the fabric, enjoying the way he grabbed fistfuls of the blanket under them.

“Very,” he ground out.

She scooted down, sitting lower on his hips so his bulge tented in front of her. She undid the fastenings keeping his length confined, his gasps and groans as she freed him to the warm spring air sweet on her ears.

Proud and tall, his member stood on full display for her to admire. Already weeping at the slit, she wrapped her fingers around his girth, savoring how he jumped in her grasp. With a touch rivaling reverence, she brushed her thumb over the underside of his head, trailing the lip of his tip.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw his hands fidget against the blanket. She glanced up to see him peering down at her with a faint dusting on his cheeks.

“Don’t stare,” he mumbled, and she laughed breathlessly at his fluster expression.

Standing, she quickly wiggled out of her own trousers and dragged her smallclothes down and off, his golden eyes trained on her.

“Take your time,” he sighed, watching as she kneeled over him. Reaching a hand between them to line him up, she sank down, his head pressing against her wet entrance.

But making it no further than that.

She huffed in annoyance at herself. He was a bigger swell than she realized. She rocked her hips against him, encouraging herself to relax. She should have loosened herself up first, she thought belatedly.

Sweet praises tumbled from his lips as she slowly worked herself open for him, on him, his hands rubbing gentle circles along her thighs.

“You’re doing so good, you’ll take me so well, I just know—” A sharp gasp cut off his rambling as his tip slid into her, spreading her more than she expected. She stopped and breathed, allowing herself a moment to adjust to his girth.

“Gods, you’re a good bit bigger than the toys I’m used to,” she panted, to which an airy laugh was his response. Swallowing, she lowered herself down his length, rocking her hips ilm by ilm until she sat flush with him. He filled her like nothing she had ever felt before, a complete satisfaction at being stretched to her limits. With a sly smile, she could already tell she would be sore from this in the sweetest of ways. 

“Take your time,” he repeated, but it sounded much more strained. With his eyes shut tight and head thrown back against the blanket, the once gentle grip he had at her thigh now threatened to leave marks in her plump flesh.

With movements slow and uncertain, she rode him, giving herself time to adjust to the new sensation deep within her. Growing more comfortable, she experimented with which angle and speed got the best reaction out of him, which gave her his nicest groans and gasp. But she noticed that none made him rut against her. Every one of his muscles under her were held taut, as if fighting with himself to keep his hips as still as possible, obliging her to set her unpracticed pace between them.

“Are you waiting for my permission to move?” she ventured to ask. He nodded, licking his lips. 

“Would guess this is your first time riding someone like this,” he panted through choked breath. “I don’t wish to overwhelm you.”

“How considerate.” She leaned closer down to him, bringing her cheek to his. “I want you to fuck me, Solus.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His arms wrapped around her, holding her down against him as his hips snapped up into her. There was an attempt to keep his pace level, but it quickly fell away to erratic thrusting, his tip hitting deep in her over and over, delicious friction stretching her entrance. 

Praise tumbled from Solus’s mouth again. He slid a hand between them, his skilled fingers finding that bundle of nerves at her front and rubbed a quick pace to match his hips.

Surrendering herself to him, ecstasy swelled from her core. Stolen breath, thighs trembling, her peak crashed over her before she knew it. Her keening urged him to his own—she felt him pulse and throb within her, his essence coating her walls. Solus curled in on her, holding her close as he rocked them through their shared aftershocks.

He peppered kisses along her sweaty brow, brushing her hair back and out of the way, mumbling more praises that her lust hazed mind vaguely heard. Still gripping her tight, he carefully switched their positions before pulling out. She grimaced, feeling the mess gathering between her legs.

A _snap_ caused her to crack an eye open, and a conjured washcloth appeared in his hands. 

“Oh, that’s useful,” she commented with wide eyes. She had almost forgotten about his magical abilities. 

Her breath caught as he reached down. Without thinking, her hand shot out to catch his before he got too close to her core. Despite their coupling, that damned constriction in her chest returned, bringing with it another blush to her cheeks. She couldn’t bring herself to allow him to perform such an intimate act on her.

He looked at her a moment, then wordless handed her the washcloth, summoning another for himself.


	9. searching for you.

Vhel leaned back against the rough wood of the stockade wall, the evening summer sun warm on her face.

“So, you serve 25 years, and then what?” she asked.

Solus shifted his weight to his other leg, leaning his shoulder on hers while being mindful of his armor plating. 

“Then, ideally, you’ve earned enough renown to retire to a life of peace and tranquility in the nicer parts of the city.”

Vhel hummed, reaching over and plucking the helmet held loosely at his side.

“Sound awfully dull,” she commented as she turned it over in her hands. Nicked and scratched and with an especially nasty dent on one side, it looked like it had been through hell with the day’s earlier training session. Bits of grass and dirt clung to the grooves of the metal, telling her he must have taken a bad fall with it as well.

“Not entirely worth it, if you ask me,” Solus mumbled under his breath. Vhel could feel his eyes on her. But when she glanced at him, he turned back to the setting sun in front of them.

Not only leaving his armor battered, the drills also left him with an impressive black eye that his pride was still nursing, the sight of which twisted her stomach when she came down to visit before dinner today. She had to remind herself that she had endured her fair share of injuries while sparring, that it was nothing to seek retribution over. 

“Why does it distort voices?” She peered into the neck of the helmet, wondering what it might feel like to wear, if her ears didn’t prevent it. Solus shrugged.

“I think it’s supposed to be an intimidation tactic. Or a manufacturing error, I’m not entirely sure.”

“Quite a shame,” she handed it back to him, his armor clinking as he reached over to take it. “Does a terrible injustice to your lovely voice, you know.” She nudged him lightly, finally getting a small smile on his lips.

Ever since her arrival, Vhel could tell something was bothering him. A melancholy air hung about him, like what was wont to overcome him sometimes, though he tried his best to hide it while around her. She couldn’t help but wonder if this worrying may have contributed to his poor performance in training, but she had learned that pressing him would only get her lies and roundabout answers. He would confide in her when he was ready, she trusted.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Solus asked. Vhel’s ears perked up at the sudden question. 

“You aren’t too sore?” She looked him up and down. If his helmet and face had taken such a beating, she imagined the rest of him fared no better. He shook his head.

“I just need to change out of this.” He motioned at himself. “Care to risk a venture into my bunk, or would you rather wait out here?”

Her ears twitched back. As much as Vhel would normally follow Solus anywhere, a few days prior she had finally met his bunkmates. A crass, crude, unpleasant bunch. The thought of accidentally running into them again unsettled her.

Her prolonged silence proved enough of an answer for him.

“I’ll be quick.” After giving her a peck on the cheek, he turned and made his way along the stockade, disappearing into the front gate.

Crossing her arms, Vhel relaxed back on the wall, listening to the sounds of the castrum on the other side. Soldiers quietly talking amongst themselves, armored footsteps and those without passing by, all echoed together into a strangely comforting rhythm of life. While it could never compare to the beauty of her home village, over the course of her many visits here she had grown to appreciate the Garlean outpost on its own merits.

Once, a few weeks ago, she had asked Solus if the capital city sounded like this, having never been to a settlement as large as what he described Garlemald being. With a scoff, he said it was a constant cacophony of noise and nuisances. A typical answer tinged with his usual dislike for his countrymen.

Solus’s approaching steps caught her attention, tall ears swiveling towards him before she turned. Although now in his civilian button-up and slacks, he walked with a slouch as if his heavy armor still adorned his shoulders. Another sign of his uneasy contemplations.

“Shall we quit this place, my dear?”

Distracted by his own thoughts, he didn’t wait for her answer before threading his fingers through hers and leading her away. They strolled together down the worn dirt path coming from the castrum, all the soldiers' comings and goings tramping it down and making a proper road out of it. He kept quiet, rubbing his thumb anxiously over the back of her hand. 

After leaving the towering stockade walls far behind, Solus cleared his throat. He kept his eyes downcast as they walked, kicking a small stone out of his way.

“There is...something we need to discuss.” The solemn tone he spoke with set a cold weight in Vhel’s stomach, but she tried to stave it off with a smile. The attempt felt false, even to her.

“I’ve guessed as much, with how reserved you’ve been.”

He squeezed her hand as he straightened up his posture, as if trying to find some sort of inner strength. Footsteps slowing them to a stop in the road, he reached behind and pulled a crumpled envelope from his rear pocket. She recognized the ornate writing across the font as the same hand she had seen previously. Standing before her, he peered down at the yellow parchment with weary eyes.

“Yesterday, I received this letter summoning me to Garlemald for a ceremony I am required to attend.” Moving his hand from hers, he thumbed at the broken wax seal. “It will take place a few weeks from now, but I have to leave much sooner to prepare.”

“Must be some fancy to-do,” she commented, despite the lump forming in her throat. Solus nodded, the white streak in his hair catching orange highlights from the sunlight.

“When I depart for this,” he hesitated, tapping the edge of the envelope against his palm, “I won’t be returning to the castrum.”

A gentle wind swayed the nearby treetops, leaves rustling in the breeze. Far-off birds called to one another.

“I-I see,” was all Vhel could manage, her mouth suddenly becoming dry and mind blanking. “What, what sort of ceremony is it?”

Stuffing the envelope back into his pocket, he took both her hands in his. His golden gaze finally found hers, an uncertain look behind his eyes and a worry heavy on his brow. 

“Are you familiar with the practice of arranged marriages?”

“I know of them, but marriage is not something we Viera observe.”

“Unfortunately,” he sighed, “Garlean high society does. And they are most adamant on keeping to this tradition, especially if one wishes to climb the social ladder as I do.” His grip on her hands tightened as a thick silence polluted the air between them. The longer it went on, the more of the forest sounds around her fell away, until only the low ringing in her ears remained. 

“What are you trying to tell me, Solus?” she whispered, afraid of the answer.

He took an unsteady breath in.

“I will be promoted two ranks above my current station, and her house, meanwhile, gets unrestricted access to the Galvus family coffers.”

“No, no, no—” Vhel shook her head, her body shaking, refusing his words. “You are to be wed?” A righteous fury set a tremble in her voice. She tried to wrestle herself from his grip, but he held fast with surprising strength, stepping forward and jerking her closer to him. 

“It is purely political, _I assure you,”_ he ground out as he fought to keep her from fleeing, or throwing a punch, both just as likely to happen as her rage boiled over. 

“How long?” she spat. Seething, she could only glare at him as he refused to free her. “How long have you—” Her voice failed her as she struggled for her words. “How long have you been betrothed?”

His brows knit deep lines along his forehead, and she knew that she would like this answer even less than the last.

“The wedding was to be this past spring. I have been forestalling as much as possible, but I’m afraid I am out of excuses for them. It is now set for the end of summer.”

“I...I have been a mistress.” The warmth of the setting sun no longer reached Vhel as the realization brought a numbness with it. She stopped fighting him, her willfulness giving out. Bringing her hands to his chest, he rubbed his thumbs along the back of her fingers to try and console her.

“I am sorry, truly. I didn’t think I would find someone so wonderful as you atop this godsforsaken mountain.”

Unable to keep his gaze, she turned to look upon the nearby treeline. How easily she could run from this, she thought. His hold was not so strong now. She could break free, if she tried. A few leaps, and she would be on her way back to her village high up the peak. Far away from this horrible truth.

Solus cleared his throat, trying to get her attention.

“I am certain my bride-to-be has had her fair share of gentleman visitors in my absence, if that offers you any comfort.”

“It does not.” The sun dipped lower now, the deep shadows around them growing longer with each minute. “When do you leave?”

“Next week.”

A bitter laugh escaped her.

“At least you did not disappear without a word, like a coward.”

“I would never do that to you.”

Earnest honesty bled through his words, but it did little to avail the horrible feelings muddling her mind like a slow poison. In a week’s time, he’d be gone, and she’d be the fool for having fallen for an outsider. The mountain was not meant for them, her sisters had warned her. They always found a reason to return to the safety of the flatlands. A fact she now learned for herself.

“Come with me.” The demand in his tone caught her off guard, and snapped her attention back to him. “With my personal funds, I can provide everything you need. You will want for nothing in Garlemald.”

Ears laying back, hackles raising, her earlier ire flared up anew at the very idea. 

“I will not become some _kept woman,_ Solus.” 

“Then come with me as a friend.” He was quick and ready for whatever argument she threw at him.

“Would we truly be able to stay just friends?” she asked with deep skepticism on her tongue. The grasp on her hands tightened, his mouth setting into a thin line with clear intent to convince her.

“I will try, if that is what it takes. Anything to have you with me. _Please,_ I have spent _so long—”_ For the first time, his voice faltered, lost to the gravity of his plea. He blinked, looking aside. In the dim light, his eyes shone like liquid gold.

“Yes?” She cocked a brow at him, waiting for him to gather himself enough to continue.

“Please,” was all he offered, whatever else he would say falling away to silence.

“What you propose is ludicrous,” she argued. “What would I do with myself in Garlemald?” 

“When I am promoted, I can take you under my command. House Galvus holds considerable sway, and with my vouching for your martial skills, this will be a trivial matter to accomplish. After that, you may do whatever you please within the city.”

She stared blankly at him, surprised by how readily he answered.

“So...you would have me join the Garlean army?” she asked, trying to keep up. He nodded slowly, the momentousness of his plan not lost on him.

“In a way, yes, but it would be nothing more than a cover. While I claim you as my right hand, you will bend your knee to no one, and be able to roam about freely. Otherwise, your presence would draw unnecessary attention. It is highly uncommon for non-Garleans to live in the capital, unless they are serving some military purpose.” His grip on her hands became painful in his determination to win her to this idea. He stepped closer to her, the heat between them suffocating. “Besides, how many times have you told me of your desires to see the city? I am offering you free passage to what you want, all you need to do is _come with me.”_

“This is absurd.” Her voice sounded pathetic to her ears, waning in her struggle to hold herself together as she tried to comprehend all he asked of her. To leave her home, her friends and family, and to travel so far to a foreign country, with little means to return to the mountains if she wished…she was too proud to admit it was fear that held her back. 

“Perhaps it is absurd,” he mumbled, “but I will make it work. You only have to trust me.”

Under his intense gaze, her body shook again, the steep price of his continued companionship pricking tears in the corner of her eyes. It was so much, so sudden. Vhel couldn’t stand this anymore. She needed to leave, to go anywhere but here, to clear her mind.

“I have to think about this, Solus.” 

He looked at her a moment in silent thought, as if trying to decide if he should assert his point further. With a final squeeze, he let her limp hands slip from his, watching as she took the chance to walk away and leave him alone on the road. He had the good sense to not follow and to hold his tongue. Trembling, she somehow made it to the treeline and beyond. But, as the last warmth of the sun vanished below the horizon, even the familiar surroundings of the woodland offered her little solace, and no respite from the turmoil churning inside of her.

When she was deep enough into the shadows, sure that none could see her, she collapsed against the trunk of a tree, shoulders lurching and quivering as her knees gave way and she slid down to the cold ground.

The full moon hung high above, painting the surrounding forest in its pale, silvery light.


	10. Warm Nights

The train barreled past grey-stoned buildings as it cut its way through the frigid land of Ilsabard. Long ago had it left behind the rolling greenery of the foothills, now only ice and snow covered every surface. 

As Vhel stretched on her narrow bed, the weak morning sun struggled to peek through the dirty window of her cabin. She hoped they were nearing their destination. The novelty of her first train ride had worn off when she had to spend the night on the uncomfortable mattress, and her patience was growing ever thinner.

As she got up and readied for the day, over the sounds of the train clacking along, she could hear people pass down the small corridor outside her door. Solus was required to ride in the military cars with his gear, leaving her to fend for herself in the civilian coaches. A turn of events she was not happy with. But to ease her discomfort, Solus had slipped the conductor some gill, and ensured Vhel got her own private sleeping compartment in the first-class section.

The train hit a bump, jostling Vhel, before it slowed as the brakes screeched. Excitement pumped through her veins as she quickly gathered her things. 

She had finally arrived. Her new life was about to begin.

***

_Year 1508 of the Sixth Astral Era, Garlemald_

  
  


The engines hissed to a stop, the doors along the train opened, and people spilled out. An unexpected cold bit at Vhel’s nose and ears as she stepped onto the platform. She pulled her coat tighter around herself, thankful for Solus’s kindness—she wore one of his military coats, still lingering with his scent.

At first, she had contended that it was yet summer, that such thick outerwear was unnecessary. Solus in turn insisted that it was Garlemald, and that there was no true summer so far north. He was right.

As she moved away from the crowded train doors, more than a few heads turned to watch the Veena archer pass by. Solus had warned her of this as well—a Viera in the capital would attract attention. More than even at the castrum. More than she might be comfortable with, but he had stressed that with time such ill-manners in his countrymen would fade.

Remembering why she was here, she tried to ignore the lingering gazes for now. 

“Vhel?” Solus’s call cut through the murmurs, his familiar voice further grounding her. Like a ghost gliding between people, he weaved through the crowd.

“Solus,” she greeted him with a nod. To mask her discomfort, she placed her hands on her hips and cast a discerning look over the drab train station. “So this is the first impression Garlemald gives its guest? Cannot say I am so impressed.” A tease, though the station offered its arrivals no magnificent views. Only grey stoned walls surrounding the tracks, with hints of a greater city just beyond its gates. Still, he smiled at her jest, in that subtly delighted way of his.

“Oh, I assure you, the views do not improve much.” Turning from her, he waved a hand over the crowd, summoning over an elderly Garlean gentleman pushing a trolley already weighed heavy with luggage. “This is my manservant, Cidreius.” The man bowed deeply before Vhel. “While we enjoy the city, he will be happy to bring your things to your new apartment.”

Vhel put up an argument that she could carry her own baggage, but Solus would not hear it. Her two bags, backpack, and bow ended up on the trolley with Solus’s things carted away to parts unknown.

“Now!” Solus clapped his hands together, turning bright-eyed to her. “I still have several bells before I am needed anywhere, so we have plenty of time to get you acclimated to the city.”

He reached for her hand, ready to lead her, but she gently pulled free from his loose grasp.

“Is it customary for friends to walk hand in hand in Garlemald?” She cocked a brow, and the reminder of his promise withered him slightly. 

“No, I suppose it’s not,” he mumbled, and crossed his arms in front of himself. Walking together, they threaded their way past people rushing to board last minute, until they found one of the arching stone exits.

Awed, Vhel’s eyes went wide as a city far bigger than she could have ever imagined opened up before her. Even in these early hours of the morning, people in thick coats shuffled through the large city square before them, filling it with a muted energy. Snow stuck between the cobblestones of the road and powered the long roofs of the joined buildings, the metal of their supports gleaming in the sunlight. With the clear sky above completing the pleasant view, she couldn’t understand why Solus ever talked ill of the place.

“I was dreading coming back without you,” Solus confessed as they passed by a large evergreen tree growing from the square’s center. “But, now, with you here, this all does not seem so arduous.” He spoke with a lightness she had never heard before and carried himself like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

It was nice to see and went a long way to easing her own worries. She reached over to pull him in close but remembered herself, instead brushing her hand over his back before returning to her side. 

Judging from the glint in his eyes, her own slip-up did not go unnoticed.

“I know full well how much you gave up to come here,” he continued, walking a little closer to her. “And how much trust you put in me. I will do my utmost to make this work.”

Her thoughts flickered back to her last night on the mountain, at how her sisters had not taken the news well. Even as she packed her things, they fought her on it. Demanded answers she could not give, not fully. Whatever it was about this strange Garlean man that captivated her, despite his mishandling of her trust, she...she didn’t know. And that was all she could tell her sisters as she left through the village gate for the last time.

Vhel shook her head to clear away the sour memories. Too long dwelling, and it was like to ruin her mood.

“Now what are we to do?” she asked, trying to keep her mind on the present. Solus obviously had plans ready for them with how he led her to the other side of the square, to a road lined with shops. 

With a sweeping motion, Solus waved a dramatic hand before them. “Garlemald is yours to enjoy, my dear. And despite its poor appearances, it has a few pleasant spots.”

His eyes crinkled around the edges as he smiled up at her, sending warmth blooming in her chest. She knew, on the very promise she made him swear before they left, that they would end their trysts. But friends, she could happily stay friends as long as she stayed with him.

***

_Four weeks later_

  
  


Tonight was the night. The ceremony had ended, in some far off place Vhel did not care to know the name of, and Solus was to return, a man wed.

The lanterns hung along the walls of her apartment flickered against the yellows of the setting sun spilling in from her windows. Sitting on the window seat, she gazed down to the street below, idly watching the people go by.

Before he left for the week-long event, Solus had given her a handsome sum of gill to entertain herself with in his absence. Normally, her pride would refuse such excess. But the silver of his engagement band had caught the sun as he handed her the coinpurse, and her stubborn facade crumbled. She took his gift without argument.

Most of it had been spent on expensive foods from the markets, occupying her mind with cooking new Garlean recipes in her well-stocked kitchen. Another handful was used on a new bow, carved from fine wood felled in some far-off nation, and more arrows to practice with when they went out to the shooting range. He had promised to take her as soon as he returned, knowing she’d grow restless waiting for him.

She moved from the window and sat on the floor of her small living room, back against the loveseat that came with the apartment. On the low table before her was a short shot glass and a bottle of some Garlean liquor.

 _A week._ Filling the glass, she promptly downed it. It tasted faintly of wild berries before the bitter alcohol drowned it out. This drink she had found in the markets for the lower class, a neighborhood a half day’s walk from her apartment. With labels written in the native Garlean language, she couldn’t be sure what sort of spirit was within, but the shopkeeper had assured her that whatever it was, it was strong.

Another shot, followed quickly by another. Yesterday, a kindly bartender had listened to her drunkenly rant about why a ceremony _needed to take so bloody long._ Tonight, she would save herself the embarrassment and drink away her problem in the comfort of her own home. At least then, a stranger would not have to endure the sorry sight of seeing a Veena lost in her cups.

It was all she could do to distract her mind. There was no game to hunt in Garlemald, no vast forest to lose oneself in, and tonight not even exploring the streets would be enough. She had not even her sisters to confide in. It was only her, and the wretched thoughts of Solus with another.

But she knew this day would come. And Solus, for his part, had kept their relationship platonic, as she had requested. Kept talk of the impending day to a minimum, only speaking about it on the rare occasions she asked.

Another drink. How many had she had now? The room was swimming, and night had taken over the sky. Her apartment sat above a store, and judging by the quiet from below, it was late enough for it to have closed. 

It didn’t matter. By this time, somewhere in this city, Solus walked along the streets with a wedding band on his finger and his wife on his arm. Vhel’s mind’s eye could only conjure an image of a blurry-faced Garlean woman, but that was enough to reach for another drink as acidic jealousy bubbled up.

How awful, she lamented, to detest someone she had never met.

“Vhel?”

Her attention snapped to the staircase as Solus’s voice echoed up to her, heavy boots ascending the stairs. Despite herself, a wavering smile appeared on her lips as he peered around the wall and into her living room.

“Solus!” she greeted, too loud, too cheery. “What a surprise! How kind, to visit me after such a drawn out ordeal. One would think you’d be too fatigued.”

Without needing to be invited, Solus shrugged out of his coat and hung it next to hers on the wall hooks.

“Oh, I’m plenty tired, my dear. But I thought to see how you fared on your own here. Make sure you haven’t torn the place apart from boredom.” Though he spoke with levity, Vhel could sense the worry behind his words. It was nice, almost, to know she was so much on his mind.

“So considerate. Come, join me. I am,” she leaned across the table like she was telling him a great secret from across the room, _“celebrating.”_

Solus took a moment to look between her and the now half empty bottle on her table.

 _“You_ are drinking alone, in the dark, my dear.” A snap of his fingers, and the lanterns along her wall flickered back to life. Too lost in her woes, she had not even noticed their dimming as the evening grew long.

“Perhaps, perhaps.” With a wide sweep of her arm, she bid him to join her again. Sitting on the floor as well, he took the spot across the table. A realization passed through her hazy mind, causing her to blink dumbly at the shot glass between them. “Since I was not expecting company, I only bought one cup.” Through the drunken muddle, she remembered clearly the shopkeeper insisting on her buying more, but at the time she thought it unnecessary.

Solus huffed a laugh, amused how the liquor made Vhel more bubbly than usual. “Tell me, what exactly are we celebrating?” He reached over the table and helped himself to pouring a drink in her glass. He wore gold on his finger now, she realized. Silver bands for before the wedding, and gold after it was done, as he explained once. An icy feeling wound its way into her chest at the sight, tempered by the warm buzz of the alcohol.

“Isn’t it obvious? Your union, of course. These are usually cause for celebration, yes?”

A dark pall passed over his face as he filled his second cup.

“Usually.” 

He quickly downed it. For several minutes they sat in silence, Solus thumbing the rim of the small shot glass in thought as Vhel watched on. The alcohol had done its job and kept the worst feelings at bay. And now all she cared about was studying the way his strong hands moved. They may have made an agreement to be friends, but that did not mean she could not fantasize.

“I am trying to be happy for you, Solus. But you make it hard when you aren’t happy for yourself, my friend.” She fought to get the words out as she remembered his firm grip on her hips.

Reaching across the table, she gently tilted his chin up to look at her. In the flickering lights, his golden eyes danced, catching her breath at their beauty. Gods take her, it was not fair for a Garlean to be this handsome.

“Come, sit next to me.” She scooted over even though there was plenty enough space for him already. Moving from around the table, he settled beside her. A snap of his fingers, and the lanterns along her wall snuffed out as the fireplace came to life.

It reminded her of that winter night so long ago in the Commander’s room. Ever since her discovery, she had rarely seen him use his magic so freely, always worried he’ll get found out. But it was still something he only confided in her, and that trust she treasured.

Silence continued to hang in the air, but it was more comfortable now, with him next to her. She settled in against the seat behind, her shoulder leaning onto his, and listened to the crackling of the fireplace. Now that it’s pleasant warm glow filled the room, she hadn’t even noticed how cold her apartment had gotten.

With a content sigh, Solus rested his head on her shoulder, and she relaxed on him as well. 

After a few moments, the gentle sounds of sleep from both of them floated through the apartment.


	11. Hangover

Sharp, throbbing pain in her head yanked Vhel from her slumber. She sat up to her elbows, but her sore body protested the movement. The stale taste of alcohol lingered on her tongue. 

The indigo night sky was giving way to lavender as she rolled out of bed, still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. She had no memory of getting herself to the bedroom, and only vaguely recalled sitting on the floor with Solus. Embarrassed, she rubbed a hand over her face, thinking how much of a fool she must have looked, as drunk as she was. 

With sluggish steps, she trudged down the short hallway to her kitchen. Food, hearty and hot was the only cure for a hangover this bad. _Something_ in her mad spending spree the previous week had to fit that bill. Though cooking it would be a chore right now. Someday she’d have to get Solus to teach her that trick of lighting a fire with magic.

He must have left bells ago, she mulled over as she searched her cabinets. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be in too much trouble if he was found out to have come home late. They did just _sleep_ , after all, and mostly by accident. Would be a shame to—

Vhel dropped the plate she was holding as the sound of crackling aether erupted from her living room. Viera instinct taking over, she rushed out of the kitchen, ready to take on whatever foul creature trespassed into her home. 

Instead, the sight of a flustered Solus greeted her, as if _she_ had somehow startled _him._

“I, ah.” He cleared his throat. “I hadn’t expected you to be up and about yet.”

The steady ache in her head allowed her to process only so much. She knew that Solus possessed the ability to teleport at will, but this was her first time seeing it. Another trick she would like to learn one day.

Vhel nodded a silent greeting before leaving for the kitchen. “Surprised to see you again so soon. Did no one notice your absence last night?”

Solus hummed but didn’t answer as he followed behind. “I suspected that you might be feeling unwell this morning. Thought to pop back over and check up.”

“How considerate.” She bent down to pick up the broken plate pieces, but a swirl of aether reassembled it for her. Placing it on the counter, she turned to him. 

“I could prepare a meal for you, if you’d like. To help with the headache you are no doubt nursing right now.” He shrugged, but underneath the glib gesture she could feel an odd air to him. Something was amiss, but she had long since learned that prying would get her nowhere.

Vhel sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as another wave of pain rolled through her. Tired, she stepped aside and allowed him to have the run of her kitchen.

“So, what does the day have in store for you?” She crossed her arms and watched him move with intent. Grabbing a pan, he snapped his fingers to get the stove heating.

“This morning I have to be present for some work affairs, but afterward… Would you like to go to the shooting range? I’m afraid I’ve grown rusty in my week's leave.”

Vhel smiled. 

“Your form slacking on me, Solus?”

“Oh, terribly so. I need your expert handling to set me right.” 

He winked at her, and she swatted his arm for his cheek.

***

The shooting range nearest her home was in a Garlean military complex, in the city's heart. Spanning an entire block and with training fields along its perimeter, it was one of the most imposing sights in Garlemald. At its center, encased in metal and jutting into the sky, was the praetorium.

The first time they’d come, Vhel worried Solus was trespassing again, much like their first night in the castrum. But it was then that she saw firsthand the high standing the Galvus family had in the capital.

All the guards bowed to him, addressed him with titles and pretense. Upon entering the archery range, Solus had ordered everyone out, and, to Vhel’s astonishment, they obeyed. Later she learned that it was his house that helped fund the building of the complex. He could have the run of the place as he pleased.

Despite her frequent visits accompanied by Solus, the guards still regarded her with skepticism. It made waiting outside the front gates uncomfortable. All of them gave her sidelong glances from under their helmet, eyes lingering on her bow and quiver. All, except for one.

“Hello there, Vhel,” Lucius greeted her, moving from his station to wait next to her. “Been awhile. I take it Solus is finally back?”

Lucius had not been born in the capital and didn’t share the same wariness of outsiders that many of his kin did. Save Solus, he was the only other person Vhel counted as a friend in the city.

“He is, yes. Some military matters occupied his morning, but he should be around soon enough.”

Lucius nodded. “Highborn like him put on quite a show for these things, don’t they? When my sister got wed, we had the whole business in our parent’s backyard. Done and dusted in an evening.”

He kept on, talking about his family and the mischief his nieces and nephews got up to. While usually she’d pay no mind to such small talk, Lucius had an ease to him that was contagious. His company helped pass the time until Solus’s low, mumbling voice caught her attention.

He was walking with someone Vhel didn’t recognize. By how they cowered in their uniform, she judged them as a person of lower rank than him. Muttering commands to the subordinate, Solus harshly waved them off as he approached. They scurried away the same direction they had come from. 

“Oh, Lord Galvus!” Lucius stood to attention, saluting Solus.

Brows pinched together, he cast a cold, hard look at the man. “Why are you so far from your post, guardsman?”

“I-I’m sorry, my lord.” Lucius stumbled over himself. Without a word to Vhel, he hurried to his spot by the gate. Jaw set tight, he held his eyes forward as the two passed by.

“That was unnecessary, to be so rude to him,” Vhel said after they were inside the complex.

Solus kept quiet, stewing in a bad temper that was near palpable. Silent relief washed over Vhel when they found the archery field empty today.

While she set up the targets, he peeled off the layers of his ceremonial attire, setting them on a nearby bench until he was only in his button up and slacks. Whatever he had attended this morning required pomp and grandeur. Perhaps it was the shallow ostentation that had soured his mood, she wondered.

He had not been lying about his form needing work. Gripping her new bow like he meant to break it, he loosed arrows with hardly a thought to his alignment. To no surprise, not one hit its target. Frustration built, though it was his own fault.

“Your stance is sloppy today,” she commented after another missed shot. “Stand straighter.”

She felt it inappropriate to ‘correct’ him as she had done before, so kept some distance during practice. Normally, he was a heedful, if cheeky, student. But now he ignored her advice, elbow low as he pulled the string taut. Another arrow flew clear of the target. 

“Something is wrong with this blasted bow,” Solus huffed. Vhel’s ear twitched with annoyance at his tone, but she tried again.

“Your shoulders are not straight—”

“I know how to do this, _thank you.”_

Like a twig underfoot, her patience snapped. She grabbed him by the shoulder and jerked him around to face her.

“Solus, if you are going to be short with me then I will quit this practice right now.” 

Puffing up his chest, defiance shone bright in his eyes. There was a fight in him.

_“I am not—”_

She would not hear another word, and turned on her heel, headed for the exit. She could retrieve her bow and arrows some other time. This foul mood of his was not worth tolerating.

 _“Wait—”_ Desperation broke his voice. “I... I didn’t mean to be cross with you.” Vhel stopped some fulms away, but kept her back to him. “My apologies, my dear. _Please.”_

She glanced over her shoulder at him. He looked... utterly sad, standing there, alone on the field, shoulders hunched and faced buried in the hand not holding the bow. The sight pulled at her. Something was bothering him, but he was being too stubborn to confide in her. 

Hesitant, she walked over to him and moved his hand from his face. His gaze did not meet hers. Placing her other hand atop his on the bow’s grip, she raised it back up.

“Tell me what is wrong, Solus. Perhaps I can help. At least I can offer an ear to your woes.” She pulled an arrow from the quiver and guided his hands into the proper position to nock it.

Solus’s lips set into a thin line as he stared down the sights. After a moment, the arrow cut through the air, but it missed the target by a wide margin. 

“They are holding off on giving me my due promotions.”

Vhel clicked her tongue. The compensation for his marriage. What was this entire ordeal for, if they did not keep to their agreement?

“And why is that?”

“They question my loyalty to this... _arrangement,”_ he spat. Venom filled his every word. Vhel watched in silence as he let loose another arrow. It hit the target just shy of its center.

She hummed in thought. His strangeness that morning now made sense.

“She noticed your coming back late last night, didn’t she?”

“And she had the audacity to go to her father about it!” Rounding on her, his indignity boiled over. “As if she hasn’t kept her bed plenty warm without me. The hypocrisy of it all is maddening!” 

“So they suspect you have been up to something.” Vhel balanced his outburst with her level tone. Wouldn’t do for both of them to get worked up, even if her ire steadily rose.

He nodded, and that added a constriction to her chest.

“How much do they know, Solus?” 

Returning his attention to the bow, he lined another arrow up. He became quiet, in thought, as if weighing what he should tell. She waited for him to find his tongue. 

“They know I kept the company of someone at the castrum. Know that I engaged in extramarital affairs. The specifics of the person I was with have, thankfully, have eluded them.” He offered the last part to ease the worry forming on Vhel’s brow.

“They cannot truly be so…” She struggled for the word, not wanting to sound cruel, but Solus finished the thought for her.

“Blinded. Yes, but all the better for us. In their pretentiousness, they see you as just another foreign recruit. Her family suspects I have spent my time with a Garlean woman who returned home on the same train I did.”

While grateful the blame was not directed towards her, Vhel couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the innocent stranger. She bit at her bottom lip.

“So, what are we to do then?”

“We keep to the plan. You shall take up the position of my vassal. That is the only way to ensure that no problems arise if we are seen together.”

“You aren’t worried their suspicions will grow in time?”

Solus shrugged.

“As far as anyone should be concerned, you are my recruit. Responsibility for you falls to me, to make sure you contribute your worth to the Garlean cause.”

He reached back into the quiver for the last arrow. Temper waning, he pulled the bow taut with a better form, but still not quite right. Vhel’s hands pressed upon his chest, splaying her fingers and gently nudging him to stand straighter. For too long she let her touch linger, his muscles flexing under her fingertips, before a hitch in his breath made her remember herself. She took a few steps back.

“I worry I will become a burden, Solus.”

He scoffed. Expression softening, he brought the fletching to his cheek. “Every day, I grow more grateful to have you here, with me.”

He let the arrow loose, hitting the target true.


	12. Distorted Reflections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A heads up, this chapter contains some dub-con elements at the end. 
> 
> Also, I want to say thank you to everyone for all the comments so far. They really make my day <3

Emet-Selch watched Vhel slowly disappear into the crowded streets outside the training complex. With great regret, he had ended their archery practice earlier than usual. A task made even more monumental by how her hands felt on him once again.

But, with Octavia suspicious, he had little choice. He couldn’t risk making any mistakes, and Azem’s shard was always so easy to lose time with.

When he could no longer see her over the crowd, he headed towards Solus Galvus’s estate. Shame at his outburst still haunted him, but even now, Azem’s patience and kindness with him was a familiar balm. Vhel stayed true to his dearest friend in all the most important ways. She shone so brightly when he first saw her atop that mountain all those moons ago. A beacon that he could not ignore. 

Perhaps, thousands of years past, he would have tried to reject the call of her soul. But now, loneliness wound through his veins. Misery kept him company. Even if all their time together amounted to a pale imitation of what once was, he would seize it. It kept his sense of self intact while he paraded about with the face of another.

The evening sun stretched his shadow long before him. Carriages clacked by and people gathered in the shops and taverns. The lanternarii were out now, lighting the street lamps one by one.

Emet-Selch made an abrupt turn down a narrow, shaded alley between two stores. Before long, another set of footsteps echoed with his own.

“It is unlike you, Emet-Selch, to become so invested in a sundered being,” Elidibus noted in his usual monotone. “Is she a Convocation shard, or a passing interest?”

“So to the point, Emissary!” Emet-Selch placed his hand on his chest, feigning indignity. “Not even a hello before you get to business talk. Tsk, tsk.”

Elidibus was not amused at his show, and his prolonged silence demanded an answer. As the sole Unsundered blessed with the Sight, it fell to Emet-Selch to find their shattered brethren for uplifting. Though she was a Convocation member as much as any of them, now was not the time. He still needed her here. 

“Pay her no mind. She is of no import.”

He couldn’t tell if Elidibus bought his lie, but he allowed the subject to drop. They walked together, enjoying the company of each other. A quiet reprieve from the cacophony of the mortal world.

“How fares Lahabrea?” Emet-Selch asked.

“His work with the Hrothgar tribes is proceeding apace. They will be ready for a push on Garlemald in another moon or two.”

“So soon? How surprising to hear.”

In a rare occurrence, the first step for the next Rejoining required Lahabrea and Emet-Selch working together. Lahabrea was to spur on the tribes that threatened the southern Garlean border, with Emet-Selch swooping in to play the great war hero in the ensuing conflict. An effective method to rise through the ranks of any military driven nation.

But his current problem placed a kink in their plan. Without the higher rank promised through wedlock, his reward for cutting a path through the enemy would be diminished, if he was even deployed to the area at all. He needed to fix this.

“Will you be ready to take advantage?”

Emet-Selch gave a limp wave. “Yes, yes. You needn’t worry about me.”

Elidibus said nothing, giving no hint of what was on his mind.

Emet-Selch rounded the corner of the alley’s outlet and proceeded onto the bright main street, alone. The Galvus house could be seen from here, one of the many grand houses that lined the road. Each one sat with small gardens in front and along the sides, tastefully decorated with exotic flowers and vines. Even though nothing grew in the hard soil of Ilsabard, that didn’t stop the people of this neighborhood from throwing their wealth at foreign mages to tend to their grounds.

The Galvus house was the same grey stone as all the others on the street. Solus had not been inclined to landscaping, so his plot had far fewer plants than his neighbors. Emet-Selch wondered how much of his own taste he could get away with introducing. A spider lily here, ivy plant there. He could make the yard into something nice if he ever felt inclined.

He wondered what sort of flowers Vhel would like.

Walking up the short stoop to the house, he steeled himself and opened the door. The heavy scents of perfumes overwhelmed his senses, as it always did when Solus’s wife prepared to go out. To help smooth things over, he suggested they go to the theatre tonight. A fittingly high class affair she would enjoy, and it required very little effort on his part.

“There you are! Nearly late again.” The housemaid Junia huffed at him. A plump woman with hints of grey in her hair, she had raised Solus since he was a boy. Emet-Selch made sure to always put on his best performance around her.

“I got a bit held up on the way home.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“At least you’re here now. Go on, go up and change. Lady Octavia will be ready shortly, and she expects you to be as well.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And do try to be better for her, Solus. Really, I don’t know what’s come over you.”

_“Yes, ma’am.”_

He hurried up the stairs before she could get another word in. On top of everything else, getting scolded by the maid was more than he cared to endure in one day. 

While the exterior of the home lacked much personality, the interior is where the man that was Solus shone through. Intricate crown molding adorned the walls, an ivory handrail complimented the staircase. Even the wallpaper was some designer thing. Like all other highborn houses, it was lavish, pompous, ostentatious, and not to Emet-Selch’s tastes at all. 

Another maid bowed as rounded the top of the stairs. The master bedroom took up most of the left wing of the second floor. Hand on the doorknob, he braced himself once again as he heard shuffling on the other side. Octavia waited within.

By all standards, Octavia Galvus, formerly of House Axius, was a thing of beauty. Golden hair, hourglass figure, any mortal man or woman would count themselves lucky to get a passing glance from her. And she knew it, her confidence ever high.

So her fury at learning that her husband preferred another was absolute. 

“Is that you, Solus?”

Emet-Selch entered the room carefully. She sat at her dressing table, primping her hair until it was just so. Satisfied, she stood, turning in a way that showed off the high slit in her dress, all the way to the knee.

What she wore veered close to scandalous by Garlean standards. Emet-Selch, however, had lived through many an empire now, many a mortal life. The Garleans were by far the one of the most buttoned up he had seen. Still, he cocked an interested brow at her display. 

“Ready to go yet?” she asked.

“Just need to change, and then I’ll summon the carriage around.”

She made a show of adjusting the corset that held her supple breasts, then strode past him out of the room. Her goal was to tease, to entice. To remind Solus what he could so easily lose if he let his eyes wander again.

The real Solus had looked forward to their union and Emet-Selch, over the ages, had become a talented actor. Sometimes, he could see how her company could be pleasant if circumstances were different. If a certain star hadn’t appeared and outshone everything in this horrible, frozen hell.

He quickly changed out of his uniform and into his evening wear. Their carriage came shortly after, and one bumpy ride later they were at the theater. The building was another gaudy showing in a city tripping over itself to outdo each other. 

A bit of excess he enjoyed were the private box seats, set high in the auditorium. Dark, quiet, and, if the play proved too dull, a fine place to catch a nap.

Which, to his surprise, was not the case. The day’s show was a flourishing take on a historical event. One he knew personally. Some names were wrong, the timeline fudged, but the bones were there. Enough for him to recognize and get engrossed in.

Octavia’s sudden hand on his knee jerked him back to the present. 

“This is getting rather boring, don’t you think?” She leaned closer, giving him a gracious view of her cleavage while her hand traveled upward. 

Every bit a minx, and one with a hurt pride. She didn’t hide what she wanted from him, and too late Emet-Selch realized this was her ploy all along. He obliged her and relaxed back in his seat, spreading his legs. She took the invitation, and his breath stuttered as she rubbed him through his slacks, trying to coax him to hardness. 

Even for beings that were nigh immortal, time still wove its effects on them, and for him it had taken his appetite. Were it not for stumbling across Azem’s shard, this problem of his infidelity wouldn’t exist. He hardly found mortals interesting enough to be worth the hassle, let alone jeopardize any of his schemes for a tumble. 

But Azem, even though a fragment, still had that effect on him, and the years had only made him more desperate for her touch. He was a willing moth to the flame, and thankfully, the flame had taken to him. Only for her was any complication to a plan worth overcoming.

Octavia moaned softly into his ear as she felt his cock grow to attention under her ministrations. She mumbled something about her prowess in bed, how he’d never find someone better than her. He returned with his own sweet nothings. Reassured her she was the only one for him, pulled her in closer and unbuckled his belt. 

She smiled, self-satisfied. But as Octavia’s delicate fingers freed him to the stale air of the theater, as he leaned back and let the pleasure wash over, it wasn’t her he imagined when he closed his eyes.


	13. Moths

That night, Vhel dreamt of shadows drifting through a dead city, it’s towers reaching towards a teal-green sky. Hauntingly familiar yet wholly alien, she followed its citizens in their silent wandering. When she called out, a single red mask turned to greet her.

By the morning’s twilight, the memory of the dream faded. She rolled over in bed, sinking deeper under the blankets, until the smell of cooking meats urged her up. Moving with sluggish steps, she was down the hall before she realized. 

“You’re here early.” She tried to sound casual, but the lingering grog of sleep thickened her voice. Solus glanced over his shoulder at her, his golden eyes lighting up.

“We’ve a long day ahead of us. Wouldn’t do to laze about.”

Vhel yawned and nodded. Now that the wedding was over, they needed to focus on her enlistment exam. Which meant a day spent studying Garlemald history at the capital’s library, according to Solus. Not exactly her ideal way to spend the time, but she would endure for him.

“You set my test for the end of the week, yes?” She asked. “And after all this is done, I’ll be under your command?”

Brows quirked, he gave her a questioning look.

“Yes, but as we have already discussed, it is only for show. You needn’t worry about me ordering you around. Unless you wanted me to, of course.” He cocked a devilish grin at her.

“I think not, Solus.” She looked off into the distance, in thought. Whatever he was cooking popped and hissed in the skillet. “Besides, I’d much prefer to order you about.”

He made a choking noise. Vhel looked over in time to see him turn from her, but the tips of his ears gave him away with a pink blush. She enjoyed when she could surprise him with her own coquettish comments.

“I, I’d rather like that.” He admitted quietly. Then he cleared his throat, straightening up. She took pity for now and did not tease him about the flush dusting his cheeks.

Coming up beside him, she looked over the breakfast he was preparing this morning. Biscuits, which had fast become her favorite, sat near the stove, with sausages sizzling in the pan nearby.

“People will gossip if they see you come over here every morning.”

Solus scoffed.

“Give me some credit, my dear. As if I would ever use the front door when I have a much more efficient way.”

“Yeah? You plan on starting a habit of appearing in my home whensoever you please?” Though she tried to make it sound like a scolding, the smile on her lips betrayed her. She crossed her arms and leaned her weight against him, the warmth of her kitchen making her drowsy again.

“Perhaps, perhaps. Do you intend to kick me out?”

Folding her ears down, she rested her head on his shoulder. She knew her answer immediately, but gave a pause so as not to appear too eager.

“Mm, no. I suppose not,” she mumbled as sleep pulled at her. He wrapped his arm around her, helping her keep balance.

“Mayhap, you should return to bed,” he said with a light chuckle. “I’ll come fetch you when it’s ready.”

She hummed as she nuzzled into him, lost in his scent. Always of firewood, reminding her of home and comfort. But there was something else, another familiar fragrance, but one she hadn’t yet placed. Her hand found its way to his hip, and pulled him in closer as she sighed against the crook of his neck.

He swallowed thickly. “Keep going, and I might be inclined to think you want me to join you in bed.”

She said nothing. Couldn’t, for the response that first sprang to her mind wasn’t appropriate among two people trying to stay just friends.

But the hand on his hip tightened as her breath came heavier. Every instinct in her yelled at her to take this man. Such a willing partner, each time so pliant under her touch. Each time so ready to please, when they were together atop the mountain. And now she had found him, for the second day in a row, cooking meals for her as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

She bit her lip hard enough to leave marks. 

“I think you should go, for now, lest we do something we regret.”

“I wouldn’t regret it,” came his ready response. She could feel his eyes on her as his body stilled, breakfast forgotten. He waited for her, not wanting to do anything that might overstep the shaky boundaries she had set.

“Your pulse has gotten so quick.” She was close enough now that her lips brushed against him as she spoke. “Do I truly excite you so much?”

He gave a weak laugh. “You’re the only one who ever has.”

At his earnest words, her own heartbeat echoed loud in her ears. “If you want me to stop, say so.” She placed a chaste kiss at the base of his neck, then another higher up, up and up until her lips were on his jaw. She felt the whimper he tried to stifle.

That broke what little resolve she had left. She backed him into the counter, continuing to suck and mouth at the column of his neck, intoxicated by how he melted under her touch. Shirt pulled loose, she dragged her hands up his abdomen, fingertips tracing the cut of his lean muscles. Shivers ran along his spine as he choked out her name, pleading for more.

Which she was happy to oblige. The sight of her getting to her knees sent him gasping for breath.

“Are you sure, Vhel?” His golden eyes bore into her, trying to hold back his excitement. She decided to be blunt.

“Solus, not a day has gone by that I did not think of bedding you again.”

His belt fell away, and as she freed him from his slacks and smallclothes, she hummed with pleasure to see he was already at attention. His knees buckled when she took him into her mouth. Only his strained grip on the countertop held him steady.

She bobbed her head, twisting her grasp on the way up like he had shown her moons ago. _Gods,_ she had missed his taste, the weight of him on her tongue, the feel of his coarse hairs as her nose brushed against his base.

It wasn’t long before his thighs trembled, the sign that his climax was fast approaching. She increased her pace, determined to bring him to completion. He tried to gasp out a warning, but it found him sooner than either expected. Hot ropes of seed painted the back of her throat and coated her mouth.

She stood and pulled him into a deep kiss, making sure he tasted himself on her tongue. Gripping her arms to keep himself upright, he moaned loud and long against her.

“No matter who you bring to bed,” she panted against him, “remember who you belong with, Solus.”

Breath hitching, he drew her into a tight embrace as praises and broken cries of affection spilled from his lips.

***

The library was one of the oldest and largest buildings in the city. While the surrounding others had some metal worked into their frames, it was built entirely of stone and wood. Large marble lions guarded the front entrance.

Solus reassured her that her appointment was guaranteed, but she still needed to pass some basic tests before he could make it official. One was a physical test which neither Vhel nor Solus worried at all over. She could handily outmaneuver any soldiers. The other was more tricky—new recruits were required to have at least a cursory knowledge of Garlemald and its history.

Solus had offered to tutor her without her needing to ask. He knew exactly what was on the assessment, as it was the same that Garlean citizens had to pass, and knew his way around the vast labyrinth of the library.

“Is all of this truly necessary?”

“Regrettably, yes. The higher ups would like some reassurance that you are a little knowledgeable of the country you’ll be fighting for.” His eyes searched the packed bookshelves. A faint coating of dust covered the long line of worn spines. “Now, it should be around here somewhere...” 

Vhel watched as his brows knit together. Hidden away between the towering shelving, as she waited for him to find the tome he was looking for, she reached out and interlaced her fingers with his.


	14. Red

_One month later_

Their footsteps echoed down the empty, yawning marble hallway. Along the high walls hung portraits of old Garlean generals, all with expressions like they held the painter with some level of contempt. Since passing her recruitment tests, Vhel had found herself in many Garlean government buildings, but the Chamber of the Senate was proving itself the most off-putting.

Solus walked next to her, muttering to himself as he flipped through his notes. His argument needed to be perfect if he wanted to win the favor of the Senate. A few days past, a Hrothgar tribe to the south attacked the Garlean troops patrolling the area, threatening the southern border of the small nation. Unprepared and under-manned, the troops retreated, and beseeched the capital city for reinforcements.

To which Solus stepped forward, ready with a strategy to take on the invaders were he to be deployed. What he requested was above his station, but House Galvus held enough sway that a meeting of the Senate was called to hear him out. 

The two stopped before a pair of great doors. Overly ornate with golden etchings depicting past victories, it was nothing more than another pompous showing by fragile men, as far as Vhel was concerned.

Solus cleared his throat. “This shouldn’t take more than a bell or so.” He glanced at her. “Are you ready?”

Today she would play a vital role in his plea, or so Solus claimed. He was one of only a few Garlean soldiers to successfully recruit a Veena from the mountains, and her stoic presence was to serve as a reminder of his ingenuity in the field.

Vhel reached over and smoothed out the disheveled collar to his uniform. “Of course, _my lord.”_

He shivered, her tease easing the tight tension he held in his shoulders. While in public they put on the show of a vassal and lord, with the silent Veena archer bowing to the Galvus heir. But hidden behind closed doors, Solus was the one to kneel before her, ready to heed her every command and cater to her every whim.

He took a steadying breath in through his nose. Then, with his hand pressed on the doors, the two strode into the chamber.

  
  


***

  
  


Vhel listened with rapt attention as Solus explained his strategy to his superiors. Eloquent and well spoken, any question thrown at him he handled as well as any warrior on a battlefield, yielding not an ilm to even the most determined of detractors.

If she wasn’t already smitten with the man, hearing him carry himself with such an air of confidence in front of such stone-faced adversaries would be enough.

Afterward, the Senate discussed among themselves, then asked that Vhel wait in the hall while they delved into the particulars of Solus’s plan. The intimate details of Garlean military strategy was not something they wanted to discuss in front of an outsider.

A little down the hall she found a sunny spot to wait, taking a quiet moment to reflect. If his plan got approval, by early tomorrow morning they’d be on a train to the southern border with an infantry in tow. She had never encountered true combat on the mountain—at most, a warning arrow shot at trespassers—and the idea of going to an actual battle unnerved her more than she thought it would.

“Ah, there you are.” 

Vhel’s ears swiveled toward the unfamiliar voice. Walking down the hall was one of the younger members of the Senate, no more than a few years older than her and Solus. He had a round face and kind eyes.

“Hostus Caldus.” Coming to a stop in front of her, he extended his hand in greeting. “So, you’re the Veena Solus recruited?” 

“Aye.” She shook his hand. Unlike hers and Solus’s roughed hands from training, his were soft. 

“Lucky man, that Solus.” He smiled in a gentle way, the gold rim of his circular glasses catching the bright sunlight from outside. “I’ve heard through the grapevine that you excelled at your recruitment tests. Truly impressive for someone who grew up in the _mountains_ of all places _.”_

Though her official appointment as Solus’s vassal had put her in the company of many pompous Garleans the past few weeks, not many had bothered to talk to her on their own. The ones that did inevitably said something stupid.

This man seemed to be no different. But Solus had stressed to her the importance of holding her tongue, and so she only offered an indifferent gaze.

“Ah, the strong, quiet type, just as I suspected,” Hostus said. “Your reputation precedes you.”

Vhel sighed and glanced over the man’s shoulder to the chamber door down the hall. Perhaps through sheer will she could get Solus to hurry and save her from this inane conversation.

“Sorry to say, but Solus will still be a bit, if that is what you’re worrying about,” Hostus said. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his large overcoat. “Though I expect he will get what he wants. The Galvus brat always does.”

Vhel’s attention snapped to him. “Do not insult Lord Galvus in my presence.”

“Loyal to him, aren’t you?” His smile reached his eyes like he had just told a clever joke. “You know you two aren’t fooling anyone with any degree of intelligence. What sort of man keeps the company of a beautiful woman and doesn’t bring her to bed at least once?”

“Lord Galvus is a man of integrity.” 

“Ah, yes, I suppose you’re right. Galvus is far too up his own ass to partake of a savage’s goods.”

Her lip twitched in a snarl. She would gut this man if she could. “Crude pissant.” 

Quick as lightning, a dagger pressed to her throat, and Hostus was upon her. His body crushed against hers, pinning her between himself and the wall. In that moment, looking on that too sweet of a smile with the sting of a blade on her skin, a fear unlike any Vhel had known filled her.

“Such language! Galvus thinks himself above even us in the Senate, and now I see you have picked up his bad manners.” He was close enough she could feel his breath on her face. “I should take it upon myself to teach you some.”

A hand wedged between them, planting on his chest and shoved him away, sending him stumbling backward. Solus stepped in front of Vhel with shoulders squared at the other man.

“Oh, Galvus. Done already?” Hostus tucked the blade back into his pocket with that damned smile still on his lips.

Solus stood straight-backed in silence. A fury that could extinguish suns burned in his golden eyes. Hostus started to say something else, but Solus didn’t give him the privilege. He grabbed Vhel by the wrist and pulled her away. Down the hall and around a corner, he opened one of the office doors and led her inside, locking it closed behind them.

“What did he do?” he asked, rounding on her. Vhel could not meet his eyes.

“It was nothing I couldn’t handle, Solus,” she said in an attempt to hide her cowardice behind bravado.

“Vhel—”

“I said it’s fine. Did they accept your proposal?”

“What—Oh, yes, yes.” The way his concerned eyes searched hers added insult to injury. “You’re bleeding.”

Vhel blinked in disbelief. She touched her neck, her fingers coming away with drops of red.

“Did he do this?” Stepping closer, he reached out and brushed a thumb over the thin line of blood. Healing aether stitched her skin back together. 

She gave no answer to his question, but she didn’t need to.

“Are we still on for training tonight?” she asked instead.

“Yes, but I can’t stay overly long.” 

“Octavia has you busy?” She tried a smile, knowing his wife sometimes demanded his evenings for errands. They ranged from the aggravation of shopping to dinner parties that drove Solus to tears of boredom—all of which he would loudly complain about over a shared bottle of ale at her home.

He shook his head, but his eyes stayed wide, his anger still smoldering underneath. “Something has come up that I need to take care of before we leave.”

Vhel didn’t press him on this. It must have to do with his talk with the Senate. Still, she was eager for the chance to quit this place quickly, and the two made their way out of the Capitol building and headed for the training center down the block.

  
  


***

  
  


The next morning, Vhel was up and packed before the sun rose. Their train for the southern border departed at an ungodly hour, but to her surprise the streets were abuzz with people as she made her way across the city.

Groups bustled through the town square, and hushed whispers filled the twilight morning hours. Something had set the populace of Garlemald off in the night, that much she gathered as she arrived at the station. Solus was running late—probably because of Octavia—so she lingered outside gates for him. Relaxing back against a wall, she picked up bits and pieces of conversations as she waited.

_“—That so?—”_

_“—was attacked in his home last night—”_

_“—barely survived, but—”_

_“—man in a red mask—”_

“Good morning, Solus,” she called to him when his slouched figure caught her eye from across the crowd. He gave a tired, lopsided smile. Once he got close enough, his fingers intertwined with hers for a quick, discreet squeeze of her hand.

“Long night?” she asked as he tried, and failed, to stifle a yawn. 

“I can sleep on the train,” he mumbled.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mh’hmm.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

Weaving through the morning rush, the two walked inside the station.

“If the fates were kinder we could get on a sleeper car instead of the military one. I could lay my head on your ample bosom and—”

“Solus!” Vhel elbowed him, which only earned her the slyest, cheekiest smile he could muster.

“Fine, fine. Sit next to me so I can lean on your shoulder.”

They stood back from the platform as they waited for the train to arrive. Despite his clear fatigue, Solus had an energy to him that lifted Vhel’s own mood as her thoughts turned to the southern border and the battle that awaited them.


	15. Ambition

Unlike the civilian cars Vhel had ridden to Garlemald on, the military ones lacked many comforts. The seats were harder, the rattling louder, and each car tried to fit as many bodies in it as it could. But unlike the buzz of the city, the soldiers talking amongst themselves came to a quiet rumbling to Vhel.

She thought Solus had been joking when he said he would sleep on her shoulder on the train ride. He probably meant it as a joke, since such an overly familiar display in public might create rumors. But, as he rested against her with the undeniable lull of sleep, she found her attention drawn to the view outside her window. Let any of them talk. She wanted to enjoy the gentle warmth of him next to her.

Eventually their quiet moment ended as Solus awoke and sat up, and Vhel had to stop herself from fixing his mussed hair.

“What time is it?” He rubbed his face, his long fingers doing more to mess up his bangs.

“Around midday.” They still had another bell before they got to the southern station, then it was a short trek to the castrum. From there, about a bell and a half’s walk away, the Hrothgar gathered.

Solus sighed into his hands. “I need to go speak with the other officers.” He leveled a serious gaze at her. “Do I look like I’ve been asleep?” 

Finally. She reached over and fixed his bangs to lie down, making sure the white streak in his hair framed his face just so. Satisfied that he did not look a mess, she nodded, and he got to his feet. After a stretch that popped a few bones, he walked down the narrow aisle and disappeared behind the heavy metal door that separated the cars.

She relaxed back in her chair and listened to the clatter of the train. Fall had well settled onto the northern lands of Ilsabard, and orange and yellow trees zipped by outside the window under a grey sky.

“Fancy meeting you here.” 

She turned to see Lucius standing in the aisle. Like the other foot soldiers on the train, he wore the burdensome Garlean armor, with his helmet left off. 

“I didn’t know you were drafted for this,” Vhel said. The past month had kept her busy, but when the chance presented itself, when waiting for Solus outside the shooting range, she chatted with the guardsman.

“Luck of the draw.” He shrugged. “Have you had lunch yet? They sell food in the other car. If you wanted, I could show you which to avoid. Some of them can get a little sketchy.”

While her nerves dulled her appetite, she knew she should try eating something before they got to the station, and the two walked to the car behind theirs, careful over the shaking connection segment. Inside was a counter to one side and a few tables and chairs mounted to the floor and walls of the other. Alone at one table sat someone Vhel had grown surprisingly familiar with.

“Hello, Matius.” Vhel nodded in greeting at the stocky man. Despite their rough first meeting on the mountain all those moons ago, her exceptional performance on the tests had earned her some amount of respect from him. And, with his family having a close relationship with Solus’s, she ended up seeing him more than either really wanted at first.

But after enduring each other’s company, they had—she worried—the beginnings of a friendship.

“Vhel.” He gave a curt nod, but motioned to the empty seats across from him in a silent invitation. After heeding Lucius’s advice and buying the loaghtan sandwich instead of the ovim one, they joined him at his table.

“You’re from House Carvilius, right?” Lucius asked around a mouthful of his own loaghtan sandwich.

“That I am.” In a rare moment of decorum for Matius, he inquired of Lucius’s name, and the two introduced themselves.

“So, you all ready for the Hrothgar?” Lucius asked.

“I suppose,” Vhel said, slowly unwrapping her food from its paper packaging.

“You’ll be supporting Solus, I imagine?”

“Of course.” She picked at the crust on the hard bread. Solus had gone over the plan at their training last night. While he led the charge, she was to stay back and offer support from a distance with her bow along side the other ranged troops.

“Be sure to keep a good eye on him, yeah? He’s made himself a target with this stunt, from what I hear.”

She cocked her head at Lucius in question. “Why’s that?”

“Well, people are saying that Solus is getting ahead of himself. Going in front of the Senate like that, he’s stepped over a few people who think themselves more capable.”

“Lord Galvus is ambitious, as is fitting for one of his standing,” Matius added. While they were on equal footing—both being born into high houses—he held Solus in a strange reverence from whence Vhel never understood. The feeling was certainly not mutual.

“People fear ambition.” Lucius took a long drink from his canteen, then turned to Vhel. “You should warn your lord to be careful and watch his back. Though, with you watching it for him, I doubt he will have much to fear.” He winked with a grin.

Vhel nodded, but continued to pick at her food in silent worry.

Their conversation turned to how Lucius had been stuck helping load the train’s cargo and Matius giving his condolences. The warning from her friend added to her anxious energy. This was something she had never felt before, this uncertainty, even greater than when she left the mountain to be with Solus in Garlemald. 

When on the battlefield, she’d have to train her bow not on game animals, but on others. She hoped she could find the strength to keep Solus safe.

Matius and Lucius chatted until they felt the train slowing. Excusing herself and leaving her meal uneaten, Vhel returned to her and Solus’s seats to find him still gone. She grabbed their packs and her bow from the overhead, and waited with a tapping foot for the train to come to a stop.

The moment she stepped onto the platform, she could tell just how far they were from the capital. Dirty cobblestone streets gave way to mud and grass in parts, and the station was more a shack and deck with rails running next to it. The wooden houses of the town slanted this way and that, and looming tall in the distance stood Castrum Postremum.

Glancing around, Vhel spotted Solus exiting from one of the front cars. Since she had last seen him, he had changed into the more decorated armor of the leading officers. It was similar to the infantry one, but had bright red wrapping around the side of the midsection where the chestplate did not cover, and its metal was a shade lighter to make him stand out among the rank and file. 

An older man in a similar uniform had his arm draped around his shoulders as they spoke, and Vhel followed behind until they got to the main road where the troops made their way up to the castrum. After giving Solus a hardy pat on the back, the man donned his helmet, and Vhel realized he must be of some import with how ornate it was.

Solus fell back as the other man continued ahead, and they fell in step. “That looks good on you, Solus.”

He stood up straighter, still holding his helmet in his hands. “It’s just as uncomfortable. If only I could wear something as light as your leather attire.” He slowly turned his helmet in his hands, a sign that something weighed on his mind.

“Are you nervous about this as well?” Vhel ventured to ask in a soft voice.

“A lot is riding on today. People are depending on me to get this done and get it done right.”

Vhel nodded. Solus had still been denied his promotion, his father-in-law determined to hold him back until he proved himself.

“And, ah,” Solus continued. “We need to make a quick stop at the armory.”

Vhel wasn’t sure why, but hummed in idle agreement. They followed the road with the troops, taking them up a small hill and through the castrum gates. Within its walls, people ran about in every direction, hurrying to complete preparations before the coming clash. 

The troops from the capital had taken their own supplies with them, so the armory was empty save a few scurrying souls. Walking among its aisle of wares, Solus picked up a Garlean military issue rifle off a crate, then walked further down and stopped before a pile of armor parts.

“Here. Take this.” He held up the rifle. “And wear this.” He nudged a spare cuirass on the floor with his foot.

Until now, Vhel had assumed she would go in her leather armor and wield her bow. “I am much more comfortable with what I have now.”

“Come now, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” he said, but there was a fakeness in his voice that made her eyes narrow in suspicion.

“You’re worried I’ll get hurt,” Vhel said.

“The Hrothgar we face are excellent mages, as well as exceptionally skilled with their gunblades. As I will be among those on the frontline, I won’t be able to protect you.”

“I do not need protection, Solus.” Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. She touched her neck. “Does this have to do with yesterday?”

His shoulders slumped as he set the rifle aside. “Please, do not be upset with me. But it made me realize how easily I could lose you. How quickly. And at the whim of some _barbarian_ —” Anger flared in his voice. Reaching for her, he squeezed her arms and took a moment to collect himself. “Please. All I’m asking is for you to be careful and look out for yourself.”

Her brows knit together as her ear twitched. “What about you, Solus? You’ve never seen true combat.” If either of them was in grave danger, it was him.

His lips quirked up in a smirk. “You needn’t worry about me. I’ve years of training ahead of you, after all.” Leaning in, he brought his forehead to hers, his third eye pressed to her skin. “Promise me you’ll be careful. None of these half-wits are worth throwing your life away to save.”

At that moment, an alarm cut through the castrum, a shrill cry for the troops to assemble. Solus straightened back up.

“Will you not take these things?” he asked. She stubbornly shook her head. “Very well. Are you ready?”

Quick as she could, she placed a kiss to his cheek, then another to his lips, but he followed when she moved away, a hand on her back pulling her in and deepening their kiss. 

When they parted, a new fire burned in his eyes as he licked his lips. He put on his helmet and the two strode out of the armory and into the unknown.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Snow drifted down from darkening grey clouds. Flurries of snowflakes caught and whirled in the wind in a silent dance, heeding not the din of war that waged below. 

From atop his war horse, Solus’s voice cut through the noise. He barked orders at his men with his sword in hand, the metal shimmering in the flames started by the Hrothgar’s mages.

Vhel watched from her sniper’s perch on the tallest tree. While the other men assigned to the ranged division had to make do with man-made structures, she alone held the advantage of a Viera’s agility. And thus, jumping from treetop to treetop, she alone could watch over Solus no matter how far he cut into the onslaught of Hrothgar, and make sure none caught him unawares.

When his steed fell, he was forced to engage in combat on foot. His blade never faltered, his strikes true and final, and the Hrothgar fell before him. With a steady gaze, Vhel watched, mesmerized, and waited for any opening the enemy might take advantage of.

Then, while he dealt with two at once, a third Hrothgar swordsman charged at him from behind. Solus wouldn’t have time to deal with all three.

Until now, her bow had remained slacked, the nocked arrow pointed downward.

Before they stepped foot on the battlefield, an anxious, uncertain energy had befallen her. But as she drew the fletching to her cheek and locked onto her target, a calm washed over her, and an icy determination replaced her fear.

To protect that which she held dear, she would do whatever it took.

With a single arrow, the Hrothgar swordsman fell without Solus ever knowing he had been in his sights.

The battle waged on with the Garleans pushing their attackers further and further back, and Vhel jumped along the trees to keep up. Eventually, in the midst of it all, a soldier without his helmet rushed up to Solus. After a brief discussion, Solus followed the man to a crop of trees out of Vhel’s view. She quickly followed on the treetops, but in the chaos their tracks disappeared into the thick undergrowth of the woodlands.

Panic set in as she searched, but the sound of a rifle’s shot cut through the evening. Her ears honed in on the sound, and her swift feet carried her to a small clearing in a dense part of the forest.

Snowflakes drifted down. In the dim moonlight, Solus clutched his side, then fell to his knees. Blood spread in a pool around him.

Over him stood Matius, smoking rifle in hand. Horror crossed his face when he noticed Vhel standing at the clearing’s edge.

The wind whipped around them.

He hesitated to draw his weapon, but the fletching was to her cheek without a thought. The low thump of her bow as she loosed an arrow echoed through the woods. He had no time for words. It pierced the space right above his chest piece, and he collapsed in a motionless lump to the ground.

Vhel was at Solus’s side in an instant. He threw off his helmet before he fell forward and rolled over onto his back, snow matting in his hair and on his armor.

 _“This is only a flesh wound,”_ he choked out, eyes screwed shut. At such close range, the bullet had torn a hole through his armor and into the cloth wrapping underneath, sending shrapnel into the wound.

While they had some field medic training, this was beyond both of them, she knew. 

The camp the Garleans had set up was not too far. She could carry him back. With practiced ease, she quickly removed his chestplate to lessen his weight, then carefully gathered him into her arms.

 _“This is only a flesh wound_ ,” he stressed again as blood trickled from his lips. He swallowed. _“Goddamn that man._ Goddamn all these Garleans! None of them are worth an onze of—”

“Save your strength, Solus, please.” Her voice faltered as tears pricked at her eyes. She didn’t have time right now to think of anything else, even as she felt wet warmth bloom against her stomach as she held him close. She needed to navigate the thick undergrowth and get him to safety. That was what she needed to do now. That was all she could afford to worry about.

Despite it all, a small smile formed on his lips as he looked up at her. His hand cupped her face, fingers cold as they left red streaks on her cheek.

“You saved me,” he said, his voice weak. “If it wasn’t for you, my dearest, all this work would have been for naught.”

She gave him a scolding look, and he finally fell to silence, but the smile remained.


	16. Looking to the Stars

The medical tent reeked of antiseptic and dirt made wet with the iron stench of blood. Even as Vhel waited outside, she could smell it.

Her leg shook in impatience. She couldn’t tell how long she had been waiting, but the metal chair put out front for her was growing ever more uncomfortable with each passing minute. Bent over with her arms resting atop her thighs, she studied the filthy snow on the ground and tried not to look at the deep red stain down the front of her clothes.

A rustle of the tent’s opening got her attention, but the medic that came out rushed by without giving her a single glance. They returned a few moments later with an officer in tow. It was the man she had seen Solus talking with when they got off the train, the one in ornate armor that made her wonder just how high ranking he was.

The two disappeared into the tent, and Vhel had only her own thoughts for company again. She leaned back in her chair and counted the stars in the night sky, an attempt to distract herself from the dread that weighed heavily in her chest.

The tent’s opening flew wide as the officer stepped back out. He stopped in front of Vhel, and after a moment of expectant silence, she remembered to stand and brought her arm in front of her face in the Garlean salute.

“Solus is waiting for you, if you wish to go in,” he said through the distortion of the helmet. Despite his clearly higher rank than her, he gave a small, polite nod of his head, and continued on.

Her pulse gave a jump. She dashed inside, past occupied cots, and her heart soared at the sight of Solus sitting up on the edge of his bed. All the metal armor of his uniform had been removed and set aside, leaving him in only his cloth trousers. Clean, white bandages wrapped around his middle. Upon seeing her, his downcast eyes brightened.

“How are you?” she asked. The cots used in the medical tent were built higher for the staff to more easily work on, and even with him sitting she only stood a few ilms taller.

She wanted nothing more than to take him and hold him close. Every muscle in her body ached for his touch, his warmth, to reassure her he was still here. But being out in the open like this, she settled for clenching her fists at her sides—

—until he reached out and pulled her in against him, settling her between his spread knees and holding her tight to his chest. Melting into his embrace, she buried her face against the crook of his neck.

“I was so scared.” Her voice shook from her attempt at fighting back tears. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

“Had I not had such a stalwart companion at my side, that may have very well been the case.” He sighed into her hair that spilled over her shoulder. Then he leaned away and patted the space on the bed next to him. “Come, rest a moment. Would you like to hear some good news?”

After wiping her face on the back of her hand, she sat down. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to still feel the warmth of him.

He lowered his voice. “In order to lure me out of your sights, Matius claimed the legatus needed to speak to me urgently about a flanking Hrothgar group. To say the least, Tullus doesn’t like his name being invoked for such a nefarious plot as murder.”

“I imagine many wouldn’t.” She hiccupped, and Solus wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“Mhm, and he plans to launch an investigation into the whole thing. Soon, we’ll find out if there are other rats scurrying about, and what their goal might have been.”

His hand lingered on her cheek, and she leaned into it. That something was being done about this whole affair brought her some measure of relief, but the furrow still in his brow concerned her.

“Anything else, Solus?”

“I’m going back out there. Tonight.”

She sat up straight. “What? No, no—You need your rest, you—”

“I know, I know, but…” He brought both his hands up to frame her face. “The war is yet won. I still need to prove myself, without a shadow of a doubt.” With silent pleading, his golden eyes bore into her. “I trust I can count on you to watch my back?”

Such a stubborn man. Knowing his mind was set, she nodded, ready to do everything in her power to keep him safe.

  
  


***

  
  


Days later, from high on a treetop, Vhel watched the lanterns of the Hrothgar tribes disappear into the distance. The Garleans had pushed them out of their territory, and then a few malms more. Satisfied and not wanting to lose any more men than necessary, the legatus ordered a ceasefire when their enemy made for the retreat.

A lightness overcame her. The Garleans had claimed victory, and the battle was finally over. And, standing tall on the front lines, shoulder to shoulder with the legatus and other high-ranking officers, was Solus, rifle in hand and a smile on his face.

Back at the castrum, a victory celebration was well underway as night fell. The scents of grilling meats filled the air. People gathered around fire pits with drinks in hand, sharing stories of their own personal heroics. From her studies, Vhel understood where this quick shift from battle weary to jubilation came from. For a people that had suffered as many defeats and setbacks in its history as the Garleans, victories were always celebrated. Both for those that survived, and in remembrance for those that gave their life to protect their home.

During the festivities, she was pulled aside by Lucius. Already half drunk and spurred on by rumors of her carrying a full grown man through the woods, he challenged her to an arm wrestling match, which she summarily beat him at. And then once again, for good measure. Others lined up to challenge her Viera strength, most well into their cups, and all went down with little effort on her part.

When she found Solus again, he was speaking with the legatus, now out of his armor and looking like any older highborn gentleman one might see walking the streets of Garlemald.

“Ah, there she is,” Tullus said. His thick white mustache obscured his mouth, but his eyes crinkled with a smile hidden underneath. “We were just discussing you. Vhel, is it?”

She glanced at Solus, who seemed at ease in this man’s presence, before answering. “Yes, sir.”

“Lord Galvus here tells me we have you to thank for putting down the viper.”

Her jaw clenched at the memory. “Yes, sir.”

“Very good.” He gave her an approving nod. “I won’t suffer traitors among my ranks. Solus and yourself will be well compensated once we are back in Garlemald, of that you can be sure.” An officer called for his attention from another group, something about having a drink together. With a polite tip of his head, he excused himself.

“Compensations?” Vhel asked Solus once they were alone.

“I’ll tell you later.” Smiling in a way that lit up his eyes, he brought his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. “But first, would you like to like to find somewhere quieter to celebrate?”

Vhel tilted her head in thought, though she hoped she knew where this was headed. “You have somewhere in mind?”

“I may have noted a hotel in the town on the way here.” He looked at her with his brows raised in such a faux innocent face she couldn’t help but laugh.

Amid the celebrations, none gave them a second look when Solus grabbed a bottle of wine from a table, nor when they slipped out the castrum gates together. The hotel was a modest two-story and probably one of the nicer buildings in the town. The room they had on offer was on the smaller side, but it had a decent sized bed and a fireplace at the foot of it, which was all they needed.

As soon as the door closed, his lips crashed into hers, messy and hungry for her taste, and she returned in kind. The wine bottle clanked to the floor as his nimble fingers pulled her pants down and off, then freed his stiffened cock from his trousers. He hoisted her up and pinned her between the door and his hips, her legs wrapping around him. In one smooth motion, her body took him all the way down to his base. The metal hinges protested as he pumped into her with a fevered pace tinged with a hint of desperation.

So deprived of his touch the past few days, her climax found her quickly and rolled through her in intense waves that had her crying out his name. Spurred on, his hips snapped against hers, widening his footing, until she felt his hot release spill deep inside.

Without pulling out, he carried her to the bed and flopped backwards onto it.

“Solus!” she chastised through a laugh, knowing he strained himself with his wound. He answered with a roll of his hips and a throb of his softening cock against her walls. A devilish smirk quirked his lips when that earned him a breathless gasp.

“Before we return to that dreary place,” he said with a voice made husky from lust, “I want to have you as many times as I can tonight.”

Vhel looked down at him laid under her, sweat on his brow and hair a mess and with deep, unwavering adoration in his golden eyes—

And something great and terrible and soft bloomed in her chest.

And with it, a word floated to the shore of her thoughts, sitting just on the tip of her tongue. It plucked at half formed feelings from long faded memories, stitching itself together until she realized—

Not a word. A name, steeped in longing and drowning in nostalgia.

 _“Hade—”_ but she caught herself.

This was foolish to call him by a name not his own.

Wide-eyed and still as death, he stared up at her. “What were you going to say?”

“Nothing, Solus.” She kissed along his neck to hide her embarrassed blush, and rocked her hips.

Slowly, he thawed under her, and let the matter drop.


End file.
